Fire Emblem: Awakening, Lone Wolfe
by RusticMuffin
Summary: The story of Erron Wolfe, a man with a scarred past that joins the Ylissean Shepherds to find peace for his hate filled soul.
1. Chapter 1: A New Cub

_**Foreword**_  
Howdy, this is my first fanfic so don't expect literary genius to come spilling from my PC. I'm a rather big fan of the Fire Emblem series, with the Tellius series (Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn.) being my favourite games, but this is for Awakening, a close second in my heart. I feel that I couldn't really write my OC into the Tellius world, because they draw comparisons to Stefan and Zihark (Hey, I'm a sucker for lone swordsman characters.) and in the Awakening world the only comparison is Lon'qu (who I'm not sure how to incorporate into this, I might straight up remove him, sorry Lon'qu fans.) also the Awakening characters have more enjoyable personalities (Personal preference I'm sure.)

For this fic my OC (Erron) is not the Avatar, Robin will be male in this and his path will vastly similar to his usual one. Erron joins after Robin has been found by Chrom and the Shepherds, with the first chapters showing his past before joining the Shepherds, leading through the events of Awakening's main story. And with that we shall let Erron Wolfe's story begin.

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters, but if I did…FATES WOULD BE OUT NOW DAMMIT!) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _"_ _Now this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky._  
 _The wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die."_

 _"_ _Like the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk, the law runneth forward and back._  
 _For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack." -Rupyard Kipling, The Law of the Jungle_

 _ **Waves…**_

"Se'ra are you okay?" A tall man with raven hair spoke, his voice deep and gruff, but somehow tender. "We shouldn't have sailed whilst you were still with child, the baby may be hurt…" His tone was that of caution.

"I wanted to get to Regna Ferox so the baby would be of your nation Farah, I'm sure Basilio will welcome us, you two were brothers in arms!" She said excitedly, cradling her enlarged abdomen. She was taller than most women and always wore a kind smile on her face, her soft brown eyes were kind and could melt the coldest of hearts, her hair was dark and long, tied into a neat ponytail, commonplace amongst the Chon'sin people, her clothes were simple and layered, so she could keep warm even on the cold seas. Farah looked a lot different to his wife, he was very tall and was built like a soldier, his eyes were sharp and had deep red irises almost like blood, he had a handsome face despite the scar over his right eye which reached down in line with his nostrils, his hair was raven with a slight navy tint and reached past his ears but was combed out of his face, the Feroxian wore a black coloured Myrmidon robe and held an sheathed sword of Chon'sin styling in his left hand, where it seemingly never left, it was ornate, with a black sheath that had silver engravings running down it and a blue ribbon near the hilt, the blade itself was not visible but the wrappings on the handle were white and well kept.

"Well it shan't be long till we reach the port, then we can go home." Farah said with a slight smile. Ferox was his home at least, he missed the snowy plains and serene wilderness, he'd been in Chon'sin for so long, but to return home with his wife, daughter and soon to be child, brought him great happiness.

"Daddy! Are we in Ferox yet Daddy!" A light voice said, filled with youthful wonder.

"Soon, Sol'era, we've made it nearly across the sea in a few days, we'll most likely land tomorrow." He smiled and said to his young step-daughter, ruffling her hair slightly. "Night will fall soon, and Feroxi winters are cold, we should get to our cabins to keep warm." The family began to head below deck so they could sleep, Farah led them in but stood on the deck for a few moments and looked toward the setting sun. (Home…)

 _ **Breathing…**_

Farah awoke after hearing his wife's heavy breathing. "Oh gods, now of all times!?" He rushed to his wife's side and held her hand, Sol'era was already there sat by her mother looking so concerned yet so innocent.

"Mummy…are you ok?" She said hesitating slightly.

"I'm fine sweetie, just…just…ju-Farah, FARAH!" She shouted in a fit of pain.

"I'm on it, priests or clerics are always on ferry ships." Despite the situation, he was seemingly unfazed, Farah had faced bandits, soldiers, gladiators, and faced it all with no fear. But this time he was afraid, seeing his wife in pain was worse than any wound he had suffered. He ran to the cleric's post onboard, sweating slightly, he flung open the door. "Please help, my wife…baby…LABOUR!" He was nigh shouting from worry of Se'ra's health.

"Oh my! Where is she!" The cleric was dozing off, it was the dead of night after all.

 _ **Crying…**_

"It's a boy!" The cleric said, her voice happy and full of relief.

"Se'ra!" Farah spoke with a joy only equalled on the day of his wedding.

"He's…got your…smile…" Se'ra was crying with happiness but her voice was slight, understandably so, she just went through labour. Tears on all sides: Farah, Se'ra even Sol'era was crying at the sight of her newborn brother. "We…need to give him a name!" Life returned to Se'ra's voice, and in an excited fashion she looked straight into Farah's eyes, the tears leaving her eyes (That smile…)

"Well he's half-Feroxi and half-Chon'sin, sooooo…I have no idea, sorry I'm a bit…overjoyed!" A huge smile was plastered on Farah's face.

"Er'ron!" A little voice said.

"Sol'era?" The parents said in unison.

"Er'ron is a nice name!" Her smile was filled with innocence and happiness.

"Er'ron…it's a Chon'sin name, but he was born on the high seas…" Se'ra said pondering the name, it was nice but inside she new the child wasn't of Chon'sin nationality.

"Okay remove the accent then…Erron instead of Er'ron." Farah said calmly looking upon the sleeping infant.

"Erron…Erron Wolfe!" The boy opened his eyes, they were a deep blue, like the ocean he was born upon. He giggled and smiled for a bit then curled up in his mothers arms and fell back asleep. "Well at least someone is at ease right now." Se'ra said joyfully, passing the infant to his father.

"He's light, we have to feed him well." Farah said in a concerned tone.

"How do you know that? The closest thing to a child you've held is your sword! You certainly treat it like one!" Se'ra chuckled lightly. The bellowing voice of the ships first mate sounded like a horn.

 **"** **Port Ferox ahoy! Prepare to land!"**

 _ **Closing Comments**_

Welp, I wrote this for a laugh and it ended up being incredibly enjoyable! I shall try to put out as much as I can. Reviews are helpful as I'm not a great creative writer, so advice and criticism is appreciated! **-Muffin**


	2. Chapter 2: The Lone Wolfe's Curse

_**Foreword**_  
Howdy, Muffin here! Bringing you Part 2 of Lone Wolfe. I thoroughly enjoyed writing Part 1, so much in fact…I'M WRITING THIS STRAIGHT AFTER! A stupid idea but, I'm a stupid person, SO IT ALL WORKS OUT.

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters, but if I did…I WOULD MAKE MORE GAMES!) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **In the halls of the Regna Ferox Longfort.**_

 _ **Laughter…**_  
"Farah you old dog! It's been years!" A voice has never been heartier.

"Basilio! Your…enthusiasm hasn't been curbed in the slightest over all these years." The man in question was huge, built like a true Barbarian and even taller than Farah, Basilio had a dark skin tone, short black hair and a thin beard. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye, a wound obtained in one of his many battles, his armour exposed his scarred chest but guarded his log-like arms.

"Who's the big man, Daddy?" Sol'era said with genuine curiosity.

"I'm your Daddy's beeeeeeest friend!"

"He's an oaf with an axe, but he's helped me many _times."_ Sol'era giggled at Farah's crude description of Basilio.

"Heheheh, oaf!" Basilio half sighed, half laughed before looking at Se'ra holding the infant, Erron.

"This is the newborn right? He'll grow into a fine warrior! Just like Ol' Uncle Basilio!" He spoke with pride.

"He's barely a week old Basilio, and your first thought of my son is him as a warrior?" Slight annoyance could be heard in Farah's voice. (I don't want him to live a warrior's life…)

"I understand Farah. I truly do. Ferox is no place for your family to live, you've fought 10 lives worth of battles, peace is what you deserve." Basilio was a hearty man, but he knew when Farah needed him to be serious. "Ylisse; you'll find a better life for your family there, they're a peaceful nation, their farmland is fertile and the weather is fair, it's more suitable for a family than the Feroxi wastes."

"We fought for their Exalt once…against Plegia. Peace isn't the first word to cross my mind…that war was brutal." Farah had a grim expression on his face, he wanted to put all of the fighting past him, he wanted his family to be safe…

"That conflict ended whilst you were gone. They want war even less than you. Half of their soldiers were farmers…" Basilio grimaced this time. "I'll have a caravan set for you tomorrow, be prepared to leave." Basilio left, leaving the family to their thoughts.

"Erron is newborn and he already has no home…" Se'ra said softly with a sob. "And Sol'era isn't even six yet." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I want them to be safe!" Farah pulled his openly weeping wife into his arms and felt her breathing heavily on his chest.

"They will be safe, I promise you Se'ra." His voice was determined.

"Mummy, why are you crying?" The young girl said sadly.

"We're all just tired Sol'era, the oaf has given us shelter, but we've got to move again tomorrow." He spoke lightly, to console his step-daughter.

"Will Ylisse be safe Daddy?" She looked into her father's eyes with fear.

"I'll make it safe if I have to." That determination returned.

 _ **Relief...**_

"Basilio can pull strings it seems…that oaf, heh." The family walked into a small home that was furnished simply, Sol'era jumped onto a soft chair and slumped, Se'ra sat down cradling Erron softly, Farah sat next to his wife and sighed deeply.

"Home…we're home…finally!" Se'ra began to cry happily again.

"Is it really over? All of the pain, the travelling…over?" Farah felt at peace, he finally had peace for his family. (And now life begins, for Erron…)

 _ **Years…**_

 _"_ _Erron is six now, Se'ra has been teaching him to read and write, he's been talking for a few years now, he's quite literate."_

 _"Sol'era is eleven, she's grown up a lot, she takes so much after her mother…she's as kind as her too…"_

 _"The rich farmland has given me work, training the farmers to fend off raiders. As they teach the mercenaries how to farm. Yet it has gained the ire of some…dangerous people."_

 **…**

 _"_ _Erron, Hoissurā is your birthright, be strong…where I could not…"_

 _"_ _I feel…this was inevitable…don't close off…people will care…"_

 _"_ _And the cub shall be faced with the loss of his own…and his sight, stained with the blood of his kin…The Lone Wolfe's Curse…"_

 _ **Burning…Choking…Dying…**_

Confusion and pain. Clutching Farah's sword, Erron stumbled around the inferno, heat clouding his mind and smoke filling his lungs. "Mum! Dad! Sol!" No reply, the flames licking his ears, he fell to his knees, crying, he held the blade tightly hoping that it would keep him safe…

"Erron! MOVE!" His eyes opened, he swivelled to see a figure running toward him, no embrace…a push.

"SOL!" As quickly as she came, she was gone…engulfed in red. She had pushed him out of the blaze, at a great cost. The last visage of his sister…flame. He was out of the home, passing out from the smoke…yet he heard laughter, cold, ruthless laughter. A man, redder than the fire.

 _ **Breathing...**_

Erron awoke. "SOL!"

"Calm down kid! You're burned on your back!" An authoritative voice spoke harshly.

"SOL!" He broke away from the voice and ran back to the smoking wreck, tears filling his eyes, ignoring the searing pain on his lower back. The fire was out but smoke loomed over, it replayed in his mind.

 _"Erron! MOVE!"_ Scrambling through the charred timber to where he was when he was saved. Anger, sadness and pain filled his mind. (No…no...) He saw a motionless figure, no, two… Erron slowly walked towards the bodies, the possible identities racing through his mind… It was his parents, holding each other close in their last moments. Erron buried his face into the charred clothes of his kin, crying profusely.

"Kid I said get back, you're hurt!" The man was an Ylissean guard, he grabbed Erron's arm and tore him from his parents. The tears ran red, like blood…As his ocean eyes were filled with tears and the blood of his family, the adrenaline ceased, with the pain of the burn on his back catching up to him. He was coughing, crying and writhing in pain, The Lone Wolfe's Curse has been fulfilled once more, as his father suffered the same in his youth, Erron's deep blue eyes burned a fearsome crimson. The cub had lost his pack... He now wanders alone, an orphaned boy with a mind filled of hate.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
So much DRAMA! Yeah, this was weird to write, about someone losing family…it's tough, I tried to not make it gory and over descriptive, because Erron is only 6 at this point, he doesn't have a clue what is happening to him, he has the mind of an infant, because he is one. Nonetheless, I shall try to get started on the next chapter soon, criticism and advice is always appreciated! **-Muffin**


	3. Chapter 3: Solitude

_**Foreword**_  
Howdy, I'm back for part 3! It's time to flesh out Erron as a character and we shall introduce a few familiar faces. This'll be the penultimate chapter of Erron's youth, so his journey will begin soon, leading up to joining the Shepherds.

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters, but if I did…I WOULD PUSH HECTOR FOR SMASH BROS DAMMIT!) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 ** _Cold…_**  
It was a busy day on the streets of the Ylissean capital city; market stalls selling farm produce, bakery stalls selling pastries and tailors trading many blankets and coats, for the cold winter ahead. Sitting by a crate next to an alleyway, was a boy no older than 8, he had shaggy raven hair that draped over his eyes and fell past his ears, he was tall for his age and wore ragged clothes, a blank expression was on his face as he watched the masses converse through the street. The cold never bothered him, he had Feroxi blood, his ancestors lived in tundras, in fact he disliked heat more than cold. His sharp, crimson eyes focused upon the bakers stall selling bread and cakes, the realisation that he was incredibly hungry struck him hard in his gut. Silently and expressionless, the boy stood up and walked slowly to the stall, a rather hearty man was preaching the greatness of his confections, so much so, that the boy took a loaf of bread without anyone batting an eye. He returned to the crate where he was sat and began to tear apart and wolf down the food, he finished the whole loaf in about a minute and his hunger was sated.

As the sun began to set the boy sat motionless by the crate, this was his home of sorts, a blanket was laid out by the crate with a second rag folded up on top, a book rested on top of the folded blanket, it was quite thick and heavy, at night he would read the large tome, fascinated by its contents; sword forms from around the world ranging from Ylissean Knight forms, to even Chon'sin Myrmidon styles. A sheathed sword was hidden behind said crate, belonging to the boy's father, a final memento of his lineage. He began to unfold the second blanket and wrapped himself up and leaned against the crate, hoping to fall asleep easily. He couldn't, as he began to recall the past two years of his homelessness.

(How…can I go on?)

(I lost everything…)

 _ **Aching…**_  
"Listen boy! You clean these swords or you don't get fed. UNDERSTOOD?!" An angry and spiteful voice ringed through Erron's ears. The man was bulky and had scars, wearing Barbarian armour with painted markings on his face. Nothing more than a bandit leader, he preyed upon the weak, namely a 7 year old boy who lost his family.

"…Understood…" The boy's voice was hoarse, he was hardly fed or given drink, even after doing his 'job'. Slavery, that's what this was. A cold hearted man using a grief stricken child as a tool.

"That's good. Now get cleanin'!" The man slammed the door, not even looking at Erron. The boy began to clean and sharpen a stack of iron blades, some dirty, some with dried blood on them. Erron was no dumb child, he had been planning a way out of this situation for the past few months, and now was his perfect time. He took one of the blades that he had been paying close attention to. He had sharpened it greatly, and had hid it from the barbaric man. Erron had learned that the bandit was lazy, and slept after shutting Erron's room, he was a heavy sleeper, which Erron found after hitting the door repeatedly with no response. Using the sharpened blade, a small, thin stiletto knife, he began prying at the lock on the door. Erron was no lock picker, so he began to break the lock instead, successfully doing so without waking up his captor. He opened the door slowly and crept out of his prison, keeping his eye on the bandit sleeping in a chair with his head tilted back, he was snoring loudly.

 _ **Vengeful…**_  
A dark feeling coursed through Erron's body (He's helpless…he won't retaliate.) He shook his head, trying to focus. Walking slowly to the table where the man was sleeping he saw his father's sword on top. Taking it and tying the ribbon to his waist, he thought to leave. The door to the outside was locked with the keys being held in the slaver's hand. Erron was no lock picker, nor a pickpocket, but he was incredibly desperate, and some people will do anything out of desperation. (…He won't fight back…) Taking the stiletto he crept back to the sleeping Barbarian. The darkness creeped back into his mind, anger and hate welled up. (He…will…die…) Erron closed his eyes as he swung blindly at the neck of the slaver, he opened his eyes to see the man clutching his neck and sputtering blood, Erron dropped the knife, shocked and quivering, he took the keys that were dropped by the bandit and ran for the door not looking at the deed he had done.

 _ **Running…**_  
It was night, most people were asleep and the streets were empty, Erron was stumbling due to injuries and mental trauma, he found an alleyway that was dry with a large crate, he sat by it holding his knees by his chest and began to weep out of fear. He fell asleep not to long after, mainly because of exhaustion, physical and mental. He was free, he had escaped, but he...had killed someone, and he had no home to return to...

 _ **Brightness…**_  
Erron awoke after a rough sleep, he was recalling his past but it ended up giving him a nightmare, he wondered if he was still dreaming as he heard two voices, he opened his eyes and looked at the source of the noise, his vision was blurry as he had just awoke, but saw two girls, not much younger than him; one with long scarlet hair and a shorter girl with long chestnut hair, they both wore simple dresses; the redhead wore a light blue one, whilst the brunette wore a pink one.

"Is he okay, Cordy?" The shorter girl asked whilst standing behind her taller friend, looking at Erron shyly.

"I'm not sure." She looked back at the shy girl. She then looked back at Erron with a smile on her face. "Are you okay?" She extended her hand to help Erron up.

"I'm fine…leave me alone." He said, without taking the red haired girl's hand and looked down. The two recoiled slightly at the abrasive boy, who they noticed was quite tall, with striking red eyes and long pitch black hair.

"Oh, sorry...you seemed lonely." The fiery haired girl said whilst somewhat annoyed.

"I'm fine on my own, you don't need to be concerned with me." Erron said, coldly whilst turning away from the girls, he sat back against his crate and started reading his book, trying to ignore them. The two girls were confused, a boy was sitting by himself in a street looking upset, but he wants to be left alone?

"I'm Sumia," the chestnut haired girl spoke up. "And this is Cordelia." Erron looked up, this time he looked annoyed.

"What's your name?" Asked Cordelia, she was smiling again.

"Erron Wolfe." He said curtly, Sumia extended her hand this time. "Uh…I don't shake hands…" He said, quite sadly this time, looking away.

"Well it was nice meeting you Erron, but we have to go!" Cordelia waved politely and walked off with Sumia.

"Goodbye." Erron said not looking at the two, but he raised his hand slightly instead of waving.

(Why did they care so much…)

(I probably won't see them again anyways…)

He looked upon the market stalls which were opening up again, looking to take what he could get, Erron's eyes focused on street.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Drama city over here! Sumia and Cordelia make an appearance (They were childhood friends so I introduced them together.) Erron is all sad and abrasive, because he lost his family and was treated like poop. Next chapter will be written soon, reviews and criticism are always welcome! **-Muffin**


	4. Chapter 4: A Proposition

_**Foreword**_  
Howdy, Muffin here! Bringing you Chapter 4! *Fanfares* The last chapter of Erron's childhood, with his emotional adventure beginning.

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters, but if I did…I WOULD…yeah you get the joke.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Time…**_  
Another three years passed with Erron living on the streets, his days had gotten easier with Sumia and Cordelia visiting him a lot of the time, they had been bringing him food and warmer clothes, so Erron didn't need to steal as much. He had warmed up to the girls, more so than anyone else after he lost his family. Cordelia and Sumia had learned that Erron was afraid of touching people or being touched and that he wasn't an Ylissean native, other than that he didn't say much about himself. Erron learned a lot about his new friends as well, the two girls new each other since they were toddlers, they shared the dream of becoming Ylissean Pegasus Knights and in turn they were both fascinated by the winged beasts. It was usual for them to stop and visit Erron before noon to give him some food that they had prepared in the morning, and as they were making their visit one day, they noticed Erron was not alone; instead he was conversing with a very aged man that wore exotic blue robes, he was not of Ylisse, he spoke with a foreign accent and was showing great interest in Erron's sword.

"It belonged to my father…what else do you need to know." Erron spoke coldly, holding the sheathed blade in his hands, he clutched it closely to his chest, almost trying to protect the blade.

"Fie, I only show interest because I knew a wielder of that blade." He spoke genuinely, not trying to be confrontational. "He had black hair like you, and the same crimson eyes."

"What? You knew my father? Tell me, NOW!" Erron rarely raised his voice but hearing mention of his family angered him, he never knew much about his family's past, except his father was from a place called Ferox and his mother from a country across the sea called Chon'sin.

"Calm yourself child. Your father was a warrior that came to my homeland many years ago, I had taught him about the origins of that sword, and I taught him how to fight with it. My name is Wei'lu of the Black Eagle." He motioned to his shoulder which had a metal shoulder guard, which bore a stylised crest of a bird in flight. Wei'lu was tall, he had brown eyes and a face that was clearly aged, he stood hunched over using a sword's sheath as a walking stick. His robes were a light blue, with fur trimming the neck, it cut off at his upper arms, which were gauntleted with leather bracers. He wore baggy grey trousers and shin high boots, which were also fur trimmed. The old man bowed his head.

"My name is Erron Wolfe." He said cautiously, but he bowed out of courtesy.

"It took a long while for news to get to me that Farah had passed, and that he was living in Ylisstol before he met his fate." He said with a sorrowful tone. "I would of come sooner, but I wasn't notified till a few months ago…"

"Five years…" Erron said angrily. "It's been five years since I lost my family…" His fists were clenched and he looked down. "I've been living like this for five years…and now you show up, saying that you're sorry!?" He glared at Wei'lu, his eyes filled with anger. "I shou-"

"Erron, who is this man?" Cordelia and Sumia ran up to their friend, worry, plastered on their faces. "What did he do to you!?" Cordelia shared Erron's anger.

"Why must you children all be so spiteful," The tall man said, rolling his eyes. "I'm here to offer you the same tutelage as your father."

"You'll teach me how to use my dad's sword?" He looked down at the long blade. (…Vengeance…) He muttered under his breath quite sinisterly as dark thoughts coursed in his conscious.

"The blade is called Hoissurā, it means 'Whistler'; as it was said the blade whistled like the wind when it cut down the unjust." Wei'lu spoke quite poetically in his description of the blade. "Legend says the blade can conjure forth the power of a storm!" He was excited and avidly spoke of this seemingly legendary sword. "Your father searched for the sword after I found that his bloodline was worthy of wielding Hoissurā, your blood Erron; the Wolfe lineage." The young boy looked down at the blade. (...Dad...)

"…I want to learn. To honour my father." Erron's rage became determination, any chance he had to be closer to his family in spirit, he would take without a doubt.

"Hah, a good response!" The elder swordsman said with a prideful laugh. "Take what you have and I'll return at sundown, then we'll begin your training."

Sumia and Cordelia were bystanders in this situation, Erron had never told them that he lost his family, and now he was being taught how to fight with a sword? "Wait, wait! Will we still get to see him!?" Cordelia said tugging at Wei'lu's robe, with Sumia nodding vigorously.

"Hah, I wouldn't take someone from such caring friends!" He said heartily. "But he won't be staying in this alleyway." He motioned to place where Erron was living. "He'll learn to survive in worse." His tone became serious.

"That won't stop me." Erron was even more serious than his new mentor. "Come back at sundown…I'll be ready." He nodded and looked up at the old warrior.

"Fie. Farewell for now!" He bowed again, then waved as he walked off with an easily seen limp. As the veteran walked off Erron began to tie up what he had in one of his blankets, creating a makeshift pack.

"You're really serious about this aren't you…" Sumia was looking down and shuffling her feet.

"I have to do this, I have to." He picked up his things and turned to face his friends. "I'm not leaving you both. Don't worry." He didn't smile but his voice was sincere.

"Bu-but you could get hurt…" Cordelia said, tears welling up in her eyes. Sumia was trying to reassure her friend, but she was nearly about to break down.

"I've been through worse," He walked over to Cordelia and hesitantly, due to his fear, placed his hand on her shoulder. "And you two helped me through, I know that I'll be fine, you'll make sure of that." Cordelia looked up and dried her eyes at a shocking sight, for the first time, Erron had a warm smile on his face, he then walked back and sat by the crate, placing his things next to him.

"Promise us you'll stay safe!" Sumia said, giving Erron the food she had made for him.

"You know I'll be okay." He began to eat the sandwich he had been gifted.

Cordelia began to give Erron a mental checklist of things to remember. "Well let us know how you are, visit us always, and don't get too hurt and-"

"As I said; I'll be fine, I have to do this, for my family…" He finished his food and wished his friends goodbye. As they walked off Erron held his sword and began to recall what Wei'lu said about the blade.

 _"_ _The blade whistled like the wind when it cut down the unjust."_

(The unjust…I'll honour our name dad…I have to.)

 _ **Tutelage…**_  
The first year was gruelling, before Erron even drew his blade, Wei'lu taught him physical and mental discipline, to be unbreakable; in body and mind. When he started with a sword, it wasn't even his own and he was bested by his mentor many times, but each time filled him with more determination. Over the course of his five years of training, he had become incredibly proficient with Hoissurā utilising a style that made incredible use of the sword's shape and the user's skill; Wei'lu had called it Iaido an ancient Chon'sin technique focusing on the first strike, he said that it was an impractical style, but the lightness and seemingly razor sharp edge of Hoissurā allowed Erron to be efficient with all of his strikes. At the end of the fifth year, Erron had grown to be 16; his height had changed a lot, he was as tall his mentor now, in his training he gained a few scars; minor cuts on his arms and back. He had finally cut his hair, but only by a little; it draped past his ears and was swept over his left eye, obscuring it from view and now he had a ponytail, reaching down to his shoulder blades, he was the spitting image of his father, as Wei'lu would say a lot of the time.

"Your training has finished Erron, there isn't anything more for me to teach. You've mastered all of the forms I showed you, and you have even managed to best me in a duel!" Wei'lu said full of pride, bowing to his protégé. "If you want to get stronger, you must venture out, find other swordsmen; your training will mean nothing if you cannot fight the very best."

"Thank you master." Erron bowed graciously. "So now I travel? To hone my skills further…" The notion of traveling intrigued the young swordsman, he had never strayed far from Ylisstol.

"Yes, now…I have nothing left to teach, but I have gifts for you." He presented a group of items. "This myrmidon's haori is of a similar fashion to your father's," It was black with white stylings, but had long sleeves and no fur trim, unlike Wei'lu's and the coat tails covered his legs fully. "A cloak, for the harsh weather," he passed him a dark cloak which had a hood that reached over his face and a cowl which he could shield his mouth with. The cloak itself; when worn reached all around his body, concealing him from all sides. "And lastly, this pauldron…I made one like this for your father…" It was black steel that covered the right shoulder, it had a silver inlay portraying a wolf running.

"…Thank you master, for everything. I'll use these well." Erron said, proud that he had finished his training, but sadly that he was leaving his mentor.

"Now go, you might want to tell your friends about your 'news'." Wei'lu strode down the road, leaving out of Ylisstol. "I hope to see you again, Wolfe."

(Master…thank you…) Erron's mind focused. (I have to let them know…)

 _ **Morning…**_  
Cordelia awoke to a bright sun, she was excited that she and Sumia were training to become Pegasus Knights, she changed and began to head out, noticing a letter on her door step…

 _No matter how far away I am, even if it seems unreachable. I will always keep you two safe. I promise you._  
 ** _-Wolfe_**

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Adventure time! But seriously, this one was fun to write, sorry if this was long, I was trying to close up the youth thing at 4 chapters, so it may be a little rushed. But as always, I shall start the next chapter after this one is uploaded! Reviews and criticism are always helpful! **-Muffin**


	5. Chapter 5: A Nomad's Life

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 5! Sorry for this one being a bit late, college just started back up and I got delayed, but I'll try to maintain my schedule as much as I can. But here we go!

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters, but if I did...yeah this joke is dead.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Wandering…**_  
The life of a Nomad was tough, but Wei'lu had told Erron that his family had descended from nomadic tribesman, and that it would come to him naturally: it did; Erron could hunt proficiently with a bow and had an almost bestial sense of tracking, he could make shelter easily if trees were around, he even carried a simple magic tome for starting campfires. His discipline meant that the cold never bothered him, and he had learned a lot about bodily health from Wei'lu: vital organs, nerve clusters, the immune system; with this knowledge, he could patch his own wounds and know where to strike his foes efficiently. Erron had crossed into many Ylissean villages on his journey, sparring with local fighters and learning the lay of the land, if he ever needed to return. Months had passed and his swordsmanship was peerless amongst anyone he faced, yet he never stopped learning, he shadow fenced whenever he could and furthered his self discipline, even learning unarmed combat from manuscripts he bought from merchants.

 _ **Protector...**_

His stay in a remote mountain village was…interesting to say the least, he arrived as raiders were trying to steal the crops that had struggled to grow in these surprisingly arid conditions. Only a boy, only about 11 or 12 years old, with a pot on his head, a simple tunic and trousers, he was trying to fight back with a pitchfork that was way too big for him.

"Ya can't take these crops!" He shouted, trying to sound intimidating, he clearly possessed a strange accent. "We've been working too darn hard!" He rushed at a barbarian, poking his leg.

"Punk kid!" The man kicked the boy down, raising his axe. "You should've stayed hom-" He was cut off abruptly, as a strong gust of wind whistled past, the raider fell, lifeless. The culprit stood behind the corpse, cloaked and hooded, he slid his ornate sword elegantly back into it's sheath with a flourish and turned to the young child.

"Are you okay? No wounds?" He didn't lower his hood, but looked the child over to make sure he was okay.

"I'm mighty fine, thanks to you mister!" He was genuinely happy, and looked up at the swordsman in awe.

"Good, now stay hidden, I shall sort this out." He turned and began to run back to help the other villagers. As the cloaked man hurried off, the boy was left starstruck. (Woah! That man was pretty dang cool!) He could see his hero, deftly parrying and cutting down the bandits without even being hit, only with one sword, and using only one hand! His left hand was holding the sheath! After dealing with most of the raiders, the few that remained ran away. The hooded man sheathed his blade and checked over the small village.

"Thank ya so much, you saved us mister! You're a bonafide hero!" An older woman was tearfully thanking the cloaked swordsman, with the boy from before standing next to her. "We can't thank ya enough!"

"I'm no hero." The warrior said calmly. "I did what what was right." He spoke with purpose. (A…hero…) He turned and walked away, not saying anything but waving loosely.

"Mister wait!" The boy ran up, eager as when he first met him. "You never said your name!"

He stopped next to the boy. "…Wolfe…" He then resumed his pace.

"I'm Donny! Thanks again!" Another loose wave passed from the swordsman's hand and he continued his leave.

 _ **Honing…**_  
Two years had sailed by on his travels in Ylisse; nothing truly dangerous happened to Erron, he ran into bandits every now and again, but he cut them down without fear and showing no emotion in battle, he had obtained a few scars, namely a large cut tracing down the right of his torso, along with a few cuts and scratches on his arms from arrows. Sometimes, he even missed the streets, mainly due to his only friends; who would be training to be Pegasus Knights by now, but he had to become stronger, so he could return one day and keep his promise. He had ventured all across Ylisse, besting all before him, he could learn no more from this land. But his journey was not over, he needed more, he needed answers.

(Ylisse has nothing more for me.) His mind was set, he wanted to know more, Ferox was his dad's birthplace, and now it was his destination. His journey to the warrior nation was long, but Erron had survived this long, he could go further.

 _ **Blizzard…**_  
Erron had fought off the winters of Ylisse without much trouble, his blood made him hardy, but the cold blizzards of the Feroxi wastes were something else, the wind and snow bit at Erron, but he wouldn't succumb, his mind was shot, but his body kept going out of instinct. It seemed like he was walking for hours, he held his cloak around himself tightly, trying to shield himself. The hail shot at him like arrows, he couldn't go much further, even if will could drive him, his body would crack under the cold. His vision was fading, his joints freezing, he couldn't carry on, his sight faded as he lost consciousness and collapsed. His body lay gathering snow upon it, likely to be covered in a few hours.

The winters in Ferox were brutal, but some kind souls tried to bring happiness to the poor villages; namely a travelling Caravan, that brought joy with their music and merry-making. They were headed to the castle city of Regna Ferox, as the one of the Khan's requested to meet them in person, for a reason unbeknownst to the troupe. Four carriages were connected with the front being pulled by two horses, most of them were inside keeping from the cold, but one was sat next to the driver, she wore a thick cloak to keep warm, though she had grown accustomed to Ferox's cold lands, it was incredibly bone-chilling recently. As they continued down the road, the horses reared up and stopped, they were sniffing at the ground, the passenger got down and headed to the horses, they were scraping at the snow, trying to uncover something.

"Oh gods!" She found what they were pining at, a body in the snow, she called to the man at the reigns and they pulled him into one of the carriages. They wouldn't get much further in the blizzard, the horses were incredibly tired, they stopped near a forest, and tied the horses to the trees further in, so that they would be shielded from the cold.

 _ **Warm…**_  
Erron woke up, in a wooden room, he sat up and looked around, he was on a small bed of hay with a tarp on it, the room had drawers, seats and a small table. But the room was so small it must have been a carriage. He saw his carer, a woman a that looked a little younger than him, she wasn't very tall and had long light pink hair, tied up in a high ponytail and with two braids down the each side of her face, and she wore...little; it was a simple attire that was white and pink, she looked like some kind of performer. She was cleaning up Erron's haori and his cloak, mending any holes. Erron stood and silently walked over to the woman.

"Who are you?" Erron's usual social grace didn't help. The woman turned to the voice standing a few feet from her, she recoiled heavily.

"Uwaaaagh!" She screamed and blushed heavily. "Don't scare me!" She was twiddling her thumbs and looking at the ground, she looked up at the man she found in the snow hesitantly. He didn't get a good look at him before, he was very tall, with pitch black hair nearly as long as her own with sharp red eyes and a calm expression on his face.

"…as I said, who are you?" He wasn't phased by the woman's outburst, he just wanted to know what happened. "And why am I here?" He was as calm as always.

"Um, I'm Olivia," It appeared that she got embarrassed easily. "You were out cold, out in the cold. Heh." She chuckled at her own joke, which lightened her up a bit.

"Where am I?" He wasn't one for light humour.

"The Feroxi wilderness," She wasn't recoiling anymore, and this man seemed serious. "We're a few miles from The Longfort."

"That's where I need to go. Thank you for your help...but I can handle myself." He looked around for his blade. "May I have my haori and my sword?" He always wore his Gi underneath his robe and cloak, which revealed his scarred arms.

"You can't be serious? You nearly died out there!" Olivia was concerned for this man who may have died of she hadn't helped him. "We're headed there anyways, you can come with us."

"Us?" (She isn't alone.)

"Yeah, this is a Minstrel Caravan." Olivia spoke fondly of her job. "We try to make the villages we come across a little bit happier!"

"Minstrel Caravan? So singing and dancing?" He hadn't seen anything like this before, but he preferred peace and quiet, rather than singing

"Yup, we try to make people happy, so they can take their minds of the horrific winters…you took a bad time to come to Ferox." Her concerned tone returned. "We'll get to The Longfort then you can go do what you wanted. But I don't want you to kill yourself in this weather!" Erron was caught off guard by this stranger who cared so much for his wellbeing.

"Why do you care…you don't even know me…" He was confused by this woman's kindness.

"Because you would have died!" She got a little angry, did this man want to die or something?

"I'm sorry…thank you for your hospitality." He realised his error, and he bowed his head courteously. "I'd gladly accompany you." His sudden change in demeanour made Olivia blush again.

"Well when the blizzard passes, we'll head off." She gathered her things. "You should rest." She left the carriage to tell the tell the rest of the troupe that the man was okay.

"Wait Olivia," The woman turned. "My name is Erron…I never told you." She smiled sweetly and left.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
New people yay! Since Donnel is younger than most of the shepherds, I made him a kid. Olivia I made the same age because I don't know her real age in-game. Once again I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE! College will eat my time, but my off days are set up in a way that I can write still. Reviews and Critisicm is appreciated as always! **-Muffin**


	6. Chapter 6: The Brown Bear

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 6! Writing frenzy! Because of the delay on Chapter 5, I'm gonna try to get this and (Fingers crossed!) Chapter 7 done before I go to college again. But let's begin, shall we?

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Awe…**_  
The Caravan had arrived at The Longfort; Erron was astounded at the sight, it apparently reached so far horizontally, that the bastion was the border line into Regna Ferox itself. They were all asked to leave the carriages, for security reasons, Erron was met and searched by a rather burly guard in heavy armour, he tensed up as they got close to him. They took his sword and examined it closely.

"He's a mercenary," Olivia spoke up at the guard timidly. "Our hired guard if you will." She knew they would be suspicious of a man with such an ornate weapon.

"Very well, Khan Regnant Basilio requested your audience did he not?" The guard had been notified of a Caravan entering earlier that day.

"Yes that's right. Where would he be?" Olivia was being a spokesperson, of sorts, for her troupe.

"We shall have some guards escort you, welcome to Regna Ferox." He bid the group farewell, and a few more guards led them to a stable, where they left their carriages and horses. Erron was fascinated by Regna Ferox, the buildings were built differently than those in Ylisstol, the streets were laden with snow. (Dad lived here?) Erron raised his cowl and hood, to not draw any attention. He and Olivia's group headed to the main bastion, where they were greeted by a very muscular man of coloured skin. He was taller than Erron, by quite a margin, his armour flaunted his scars, he had a thin beard but a bald head, with a large silver axe by his side, and an eyepatch over his left eye.

"So you're these merrymakers right?" His gruff voice was serious and somewhat angry, causing Olivia to recoil. "You lot…HAVE REALLY!" He paused for effect. "…helped out!" He then burst into a laughing fit, heartily slapping his knee and wiping a tear from his eye. Olivia, Erron and the rest were shocked at this man's actions. "You should see your faces! Haha, HAHAHA!" He looked over the travellers laughing at all of them, but he stopped at the cloaked man. "You. It's considered disrespectful to hide your face from a Khan. And this isn't a joke." His tone grew serious.

"If you insist…" He lowered his cowl from his face and the hood from his face, then bowed his head.

"Was that so har-" The muscular warrior stopped and looked at Erron with shock. "You! Erron!"

"How do you know my name?" Erron reached for his blade defensively, the burly man edged closer.

"I knew your father! I am Khan Basilio!" He was waving his arms around with excitement. Erron lowered his sword and looked quizzically at the Khan.

"You…Basilio…" Erron was wracking his brain to remember the name. "If my dad ever told me about you, I was too young to remember…"

"We used to fight alongside each other! He was chosen to be the West Khan instead of me…but..." He gritted his teeth, angry at the loss of his friend.

"He died? I. Know." Erron said angrily.

"...I'm sorry..." Basilio sighed. "He was a close friend, and he enjoyed to wander...he left for Chon'sin before he accepted. We were known as the Brown Bear and the Black Wolf of Ferox."

"If you were so close…why didn't you come find me when he died." Erron clenched his fist.

"As much as I like to roam, the life of a Khan is…busy." He didn't want to say that. Farah was one of his closest friends, and not seeing his friends son because he was busy? It was shameful.

"…Olivia, thank you for everything…but I'm holding you to your word," Erron didn't even address Basilio, instead talking to young dancer. "I wish you luck…but I must go." He turned and was going to leave.

"Hold boy!" Basilio boomed. "You'll want to hear what I have to say." Erron stopped and turned back. "Now. Back to the matters at hand," He had a smile on his face. "I want you all to be under my personal employment." Olivia was shocked.

"You…want us to be…your personal performers?" Olivia spoke timidly.

"Of sorts. Mainly I wish to send you as ice breakers." Basilio explained.

"Ice breakers?" Olivia was confused highly.

"When the Khans need to send messages, to the other respective Khan, or any country leaders; Plegia's King, Ylisse's Exalt, blah blah blah." Basilio hated being formal, he'd much rather have had this discussion in a tavern. "We try to send an ice breaker, as a gesture of good will, so I would have you dance and perform." He then began to chuckle. "I hear that you're very good, Olivia was it?" Olivia's face turned redder than Erron's irises.

"U-um…Thank you, Khan Bas-Basilio…" She was twiddling her thumbs again.

"Haha! You're a dancer right? Why are you so shy?" Basilio wondered aloud. "And Erron," He didn't want to be confrontational. "I want you to be my champion." He spoke with pride.

"I fight for my own cause." Erron spoke with a venomous tone. "Not for the glory of an oaf." Olivia looked at Erron with shock (Is he insane!?) Erron knew why; he had just insulted the Khan Regnant, directly.

"You really are Farah's son. He always called me an oaf!" The hearty Khan burst out laughing, not taking offence to Erron's statement. "You wield Farah's sword, are you trained to use it?" He looked at the ornate blade.

"Hmph." Erron wasn't interested in Basilio's offer. "I don't care in being your 'champion', I walk my own path." He once again turned to leave.

"Jeez, he didn't teach you manners." Basilio kinda thought knew what he was doing.

"What?" Erron filled with rage, his calm external façade broke. "DON'T TALK LIKE THAT," He drew his blade and rushed for the Khan at blinding speed. "ABOUT MY FAMILY!" He went for an over head slash, but was blocked easily by Basilio's axe. (How?) He was parried then hit hard in the gut by the axe's pommel. Winded, Erron fell to the floor and dropped his blade. Olivia rushed to his side. "I…I'm fine…I can…fight…" He had a loss of breath and struggled to stand.

"Lesson one boy, humility. Know your betters and know your place." Basilio stood over the young swordsman, he was youthful and angry, and with good reason. "And no; you can't fight." He kneeled by Erron. "You have power, with refinement, you could be greater than your father." Erron yielded.

"I'll do it." He finally growled out. "I'll be your champion." Erron stood, not using Olivia's help. "But…I want to learn, about my dad. Please Basilio." All he ever wanted was answers, about his family, and why they were killed.

"Of course." A warm smile graced the warrior's face. "I'll tell you all I can." He stood and addressed the troupe. "Do you all accept?" Olivia and her friends nodded, much to Basilio's joy. "Great, I'll have rooms sorted for you all!" He signalled to some guards and left.

"Erron are you okay?" Olivia was beside herself with worry. "You aren't hurt too bad are you?" Erron held his gut, but he wasn't harmed to badly.

"I'm fine, I just…let go." Erron spoke solemnly. "I got enraged, and careless. In a real fight I would've lost…" He couldn't let his anger best him.

"…So that's why you came here," Olivia felt so bad for Erron. "You lost your family, and you hoped Basilio could tell you about your father…" Erron silently nodded.

"…Yeah…" Erron was shocked, how could he have been beaten so quickly?

"Well at least you don't have to go now!" Olivia enjoyed Erron's company, he was abrasive yes, but she knew he was kind on the inside and she never got shy around him, mainly due to his unflappable calmness. Erron never got close to people, he usually had moved away before he forged close friendships. But Olivia treated him with kindness and hospitality, even though he was a complete stranger.

"I suppose not." A smile graced his mouth, which was a rare occurrence. He looked at Basilio who was walking away. "How did he beat me so easily? With an axe no less…"

"You'll get stronger," Olivia tried to reassure the Nomad. "I believe you will!"

"Thank you Olivia." A few guards escorted them to their respective rooms and they all turned in, as night was approaching fast. Erron lay in his bed, his mind racing; (I…have to get stronger...) An hour passed and he still hadn't fell asleep. (I have someone else to protect now…) Eventually he drifted off. He hadn't slept in an actual bed since he could remember, so he actually slept easily. (The West Khan's Champion…interesting.)

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Olivia's dialogue was tricky for me to write, she doesn't have a set way of speaking, she just gets embarrassed easily. Also, Basilio is back! And heartier than ever, fulfilling his role as 'Ol' Uncle Basilio' like he said he would. Thanks for reading so far! Reviews and criticism are always welcome! **-Muffin**


	7. Chapter 7: Kindness and Hate

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 7 Wahoo! My timetable for college means I'm in on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, so I'll try to write two chapters in my off time, and one whilst doing college. So hopefully, 3 chapters a week.

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Discipline…**_  
Erron's role as Champion was different to what he thought, rather than just fighting in the Coliseum, he took on varying roles. He was tasked to patrol the borders, quell bandit insurrection, even...assassination. Whilst Olivia was sent to many places to bring joy with her dancing, Erron would ensure her safety under Basilio's order; over the course of three years they would become Ferox's Greatest Treasure and The Black Wolf. Over this time, Erron had learned much about his father and furthered his skill with Hoissurā, now being one of the greatest swordsmen in Ferox, yet he couldn't hold a candle to Basilio's skill. Basilio had been like a father to Erron, mainly out of respect for Farah, he guided him through his faults, and taught him to control his rage...to a marginal degree.

"Keep this up and you'll be a Khan in no time! Haha!" They were in the main bastion, Erron had returned from an assignment with Olivia. Basilio was there to greet them on their successful return, slapping Erron on his back, much to the swordsman discomfort.

"I don't want to be Khan," Erron hated leadership, he'd always been alone, most of the time he'd rather be alone. "It's too much responsibility…I am a fighter, not a ruler." Basilio laughed again loudly.

"You truly are Farah's son, he said the same before he settled in Ylisse." Basilio gave it a shot, but Erron was no leader. And the both of them knew it inside. "I won't force you, but I will need an heir at some point…"

"You make it sound like you're eager to hang up your armour." Olivia pitched in.

"Hah! I've still got a lot left in the tank!" He beat his chest with pride. "But I know I can't be Khan forever." They stood awkwardly for a while contemplating Basilio's words.

"Well, I'm going to rest, that journey was long!" Olivia sighed and bid the two farewell, hoping that Erron and Basilio would talk. Erron waved her off with a smile, he'd grown close to Olivia, he helped her out of tough spots, most notably a dodgy noble trying force her into marriage. Whilst she had taught him to accept people's kindness, and opened his eyes to the joys of the world, rather than just death and fighting. Basilio glanced at the two then grinned with glee, but didn't say anything after Olivia was gone.

"Oh so that's what's going on between you two!" He laughed, trying to get some kind of response from Erron, lightly punching his arm. Erron was usually unflappable, he was always calm even when in combat, but now his face turned red and he stumbled on his words.

"NO. U-um it's not like th-that at all!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "We're friends, that's all." He never thought about his relationship with Olivia too much, she was very kind and always helped him. But he never thought of her as anything more than that.

"Suuuuure, just friends," Basilio was enjoying this a bit too much. "She's the only person you talk to Boy! And she's a catch! I'm sure she likes you tooooo!" Erron was getting increasingly annoyed, he tried to keep calm, but Basilio's laughing broke him.

"I shouldn't have became Champion." Erron mumbled, his life was so simple when he was alone. He finally spoke out to, to stop Basilio. "And…I don't think I can love…" Basilio stopped laughing, and looked down at the young man. "I've lost so much…I can't afford to lose anymore…" Erron sighed and looked at his feet. "I-I have nothing to offer…"

"Boy…I was just poking fun, I'm sorry if I upset you." Basilio was remorseful, Erron lost his family, he was homeless, and he walked the path of a warrior. ( _"He's barely a week old Basilio, and your first thought of my son is him as a warrior?"_ ) Those words came back to Basilio; Farah never wanted his son to be a fighter, he wanted him to live a peaceful life…but that was taken from him. (Poor kid…) "Your father…he never wanted you to fight."

"Wh-what?" This broke Erron's trance.

"Peace was all he wanted…he had fought wars…killed so many." Basilio stared blankly into the distance. "He always regretted his actions, he hated himself for what he'd become, he never wanted his children to end up like him…a killer."

"You knew this? Yet you still had me fight for you?" Annoyance changed to anger.

"I-I'm sorry Erron." Basilio realised his mistake.

"You did this…" Erron hand gripped tightly on his sheath.

"I am sorr-" Basilio was cut off.

"All you can say is sorry…" Pure rage flowed through him. "All anyone ever says is SORRY!" He was nearly shouting. "I DON'T WANT APOLOGIES, I JUST WANT MY FAMILY TO BE ALIVE AGAIN!"

"Boy, calm down!" Basilio awakened something dark within Erron.

"I'VE BEEN CALM FOR TOO LONG!" He turned and glared into Basilio's eyes. "THIS IS WHO I AM!" Basilio saw what he had unleashed, Erron's eyes were burning with unbridled hate, his pupils looked like that of a feral beast. "YOU…YOU DID THIS." He drew his blade and pointed it at Basilio. "YOU CAN BURN IN HELL!" He raised it for a strike against the Khan, Basilio had no weapon and he didn't react out of shock. The blow never came.

 _ **Tears...**_

"Please Erron, don't do this!" Olivia had put herself between Basilio and the swordsman. She was on the verge of tears, Erron dropped his sword and sheath.

"Ol-Olivia…," He had regained his senses, as if he was being controlled before. He saw his friend trembling and crying. "Wha-what?" ( _He_...came out…)

"What the hell was that?" Basilio was in a state of complete bewilderment.

"I let go…" Olivia rushed over and wrapped her arms around him, Erron's phobia didn't kick in, he was too exhausted to care.

"Don't do that again! You scared me!" Olivia was crying into Erron's chest, out of reflex Erron hugged her back, not knowing how to react.

"I-I am so sorry…I failed." He pushed Olivia away and smiled at her sadly. "Basilio!" The big man looked at Erron. "…Find a new Champion…" He spoke solemnly, Basilio only nodded; he knew what Erron needed to do. Erron picked up his weapon, sheathed it, then began to turn and leave.

"Wait, what? No!" Erron felt his hand being grasped. "No, you can't leave!" Olivia pleaded with the swordsman.

"But if that happens again, you might be hurt…" He pulled away and carried on walking. "I couldn't live with myself if I lost anyone else…" Basilio stopped Olivia from chasing after Erron.

 **(I can't lose anyone else, I have to be alone…)**

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
DRAMA. EVERYWHERE! I'm glad I got this one done when I did. Erron is leaving Ferox, and heading to new places! With new characters! (Poor Olivia.) Reviews and Critisicm is always welcome! Thanks for reading! **-Muffin**


	8. Chapter 8: Continent of Heroes

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 8! We're leaving Ferox and heading to new lands! Erron snapped, hard. So he's going off to train DBZ style! (Well not really, but you understand me.) Thanks for reading!

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Sea Breeze…**_  
Erron had left Regna Ferox wondering where he should go, he'd seen all of Ylisse and nearly all of Ferox. Plegia was way to far to walk in his current state, so instead he headed for Port Ferox; so he could head for the continent of Valm. It had been about a week since he left Regna Ferox and he'd arrived at the harbour on a rather nice day for Ferox standards. Erron had only been to the port when he was an infant, but the sea air calmed him greatly. There was only one ship docked at the time; it wasn't large, if anything it was a small merchant ship. The crew all wore similar clothes, which were of a foreign styling. Next to the helmsman stood a woman with pink Myrmidon robes and man with dark purple robes, they were looking across their ship. (They must be from Chon'sin…) Erron new that his mother was a Chon'sin native, and that it was on Valm's continent, he could head there on this ship.

"Hey!" He rose his voice so the two could hear him. "This vessel headed for Chon'sin?" The woman looked down at Erron.

"Indeed sire!" She said down to him. "We depart at noon!"

"How much to come aboard?" Erron didn't value money, he hunted for most of his resources.

"If you are headed for Chon'sin, you may come aboard!" The man chimed in. "Just be willing to help the crew."

"Willing and able." Erron walked up the boarding ramp and headed to the helm. He lowered his hood and bowed to the two. "Many thanks," He spoke calmly. "My name his Erron."

"I am Yen'fay," He had silver hair tied in a high ponytail and had two blades strapped to his waist. "And this is my sister, Say'ri." He motioned to the woman, she had straight black hair, styled out of her face, she also had a sword tied to her waist.

"Thanks again." He headed back down the ramp and began to help the crew load the ship with the cargo, it appeared to be skins, most likely hunted in the Feroxi wilderness. A few hours had passed and Yen'fay had called for the ship to set off, the course was set for Chon'sin's harbour, they would likely land in under a week.

 _ **Waves…**_  
On the night before they were set to dock, Erron was stood on the front of the boat looking out at the midnight ocean. He felt so peaceful; maybe because he was born at sea he felt so at peace on a boat, he began to reflect on his life, and what had happened to him on his travels. His reminiscing was interrupted by Yen'fay, who wandered up to Erron.

"What troubles you?" Yen'fay had been watching Erron who was looking out for a good hour, and at night. "You should rest, we land tomorrow."

"…I was just reflecting," Erron turned to face his fellow swordsman. "On my past…" Yen'fay shook his head.

"If you dwell on the past, you'll be blinded to the future." He spoke sagely, trying to offer advice.

"Believe me, I've heard this one before." Basilio had given him this lecture many times, Erron had tried to forget his past, but it was burned into his mind. "You're wasting your breath."

"Fie," He was irritated by Erron's attitude. "Bear witness to your own destruction." Yen'fay walked off back to his sister.

"It did not go well, did it?" Say'ri questioned her brother. He only shook his head and looked off the back of the ship, Say'ri sighed and headed below deck to her cabin. Erron stood on deck for a while longer then headed to his cabin to sleep.

 _ **Beauty…**_  
They had arrived at Chon'sin and after unloading all of the cargo, Erron bid Yen'fay and Say'ri farewell and began to travel across the Chon'sin province; it was a beautiful country, the architecture was stylised heavily, the range of animals was comparable to that of Ylisse, but the flora was in plenty. Tall straight shoots were commonplace, he had heard of this, it was a tree called bamboo and it was used for many things in Chon'sin; medicine, food and weaponry. Erron had found where his mother lived and laid some flowers by the door, not intruding on the family living there, he was sad but happy that his mother knew such a beautiful place. The country wasn't as large as Ylisse or Ferox so he had seen most of it in a few months, he had trained with many Myrmidons and Swordmasters, learning even more about swordsmanship. He ventured south from Chon'sin into more Valmese lands, passing through villages and even past a volcano. A rather large town was up ahead surrounded by farmland, on his way there a couple of merchants were leaving; Erron overheard something about a 'pompous duke'.

 _ **Ruckus…**_  
Upon entering the town Erron was met by a guard, wishing him entry to 'Rosanne'. It was a peaceful place, similar to Ylisstol, only on a smaller scale. The buildings had flowers hanging from them in a great range of colour, Erron was about to find any mercenaries to train with but found himself distracted by a small crowd by a garden.

"You were chattin' up my girl!" A three large man were surrounding someone, Erron caught a glimpse of a large black creature.

"You misunderstand me sire," The man in question had periwinkle blue hair with a bow drawn, and was backing away from his pursuers. "I was merely complimenting such beauty!" He was visibly distressed, as Erron got closer he was shocked; a woman was behind the bowman, she was injured and clutching her leg, also the black creature was actually a large obsidian-scaled wyvern that was being held down by the group. Erron had to intervene, he rushed past the crowd and stood in front of the bowman, facing the thugs.

"Back off." He drew his sword and entered a defensive stance. "Now."

"Don't try to play the hero!" The leader swung for Erron with a large sword, a clash of steel was heard, a large piece of metal fell to the ground. Erron stood, his blade drawn, he had cut the sword in two, with incredible ease.

"Hmph, pathetic." He struck quickly by kicking the bandit in the gut, winding him, then using his sheath he clubbed him in the side of the head, knocking him out cold. "…Who's next?" The other thugs were shocked at the dispatch of their leader, this allowed the giant wyvern to break free, it roared with great ferocity, shooing away the rest of the group. Erron sheathed his weapon then turned around.

"I can assure you I had things under con-" The archer was interrupted.

"Your ally is hurt." Erron headed for the woman on the floor and kneeled beside her. "Show me the wound." The lady only nodded, she seemed faint, her thigh was cut deeply. "How long ago were you cut?"

"About…five…minutes…" She was nearly passing out. Her voice was slight and she was breathing heavily.

"You'll die in about ten if you aren't seen to." Erron pulled a small vial with a salve in it. He ignored his phobia and dressed the woman's injury, ending by tearing a part of his cloak off and tying it around the woman's leg to stop the blood flow. He looked to the bowman. "She needs a healer. Fast."

"Oh my," Only now was he showing distress for his companion. "There's a healer at the castle!"

"Where." Erron was, as always, calm in a crisis. "We need to hurry." He picked up the fallen woman, whom he now noticed was wearing riding armour. The wyvern was poking at the unconscious woman. (This must be her wyvern…)

"Follow me good sir!" The blue haired man strode off at speed. Erron followed, cradling the injured rider. The wyvern trotted along behind Erron, wagging its tail.

 _ **Waiting…**_  
Erron was sat in one of the hallways in a large and ornate castle, there were many paintings and statues, the whole interior was very austentacious. (Whoever owns this place is full of themselves…) He was waiting outside of the healer's quarters, hoping that the rider was okay. The archer walked out of the room and walked over to address Erron.

"I'm terribly sorry to have dragged you into this mess." He flicked his hair out of his face. "I am Lo-" Once again he was cut off.

"Is she okay?" Erron wanted to make sure the woman was okay, then he would leave.

"Uh-Ahem. Cherche is a strong woman, she'll make it through! Believe me, she's been through worse." He spoke with a regal air. "But back to formalities, I am Lord Virion, the duke of House Virion; the highest House in Rosanne!" He flourished his hands around.

"My name is Erron Wolfe." Erron lowered his hood and cowl. "A simple Nomad." He didn't care much for introductions. "But as long as she is okay, I shall take my leave."

"I urge you sir, stay for a while." Virion clapped and a butler arrived quickly. "Tea?"

"Sure, why not." Erron wanted to leave, but he would always accept such hospitality, mainly out of courtesy. They were sat outside under a gazebo, it was rather nice, if not a bit gaudy.

"So what brings you to my fine dukedom!" Virion was enjoying his tea thoroughly. "Business or…pleasure?" He added extra emphasis at the end, Erron had heard the duke of Rosanne was a notorious flirt.

"As I said, I am a Nomad." Erron was enjoying his tea more than he thought he would. "I was passing through. Then…your incident happened." Virion choked on his tea a little.

"Ahem, sire I assure you I had everything under control." The noble was trying to regain any shred of dignity.

"Four men, two swords, an axe and a bow." Dry wit was Erron's speciality. "You had one bowman, a trapped wyvern and a downed rider." Virion was flustered beyond belief. "Yeah, you had it under control." He had picked up Basilio's sarcasm over the years.

"I fear I you are underestimating my ability!" Virion pouted like a child.

"I fear I underestimated your ego." Erron returned fire. He heard laughing from behind him, a woman walked up to the two men, she was wearing riding gear, minus the plating and had long dark pink hair.

"That one'll sting. Haha." It was the previously injured woman, she smiled at Erron and waved.

"Such…scathing wit…" Virion was certainly crestfallen. Ignoring the buffoonish noble; Erron stood up and formally introduced himself.

"I am Erron Wolfe," He bowed as per usual. "I'm glad to see you recovered well, Cherche." Cherche was about to reply but was cut off by Virion.

"Yes! This is Rosanne's finest flower, my impeccable vassal, my dear Cherche!" Virion was flaunting himself, but was introducing Cherche.

"Flattery loses it's luster when used to much Virion," The rider seemed annoyed. "Your words fall on deaf ears. Milord." The last word was dripping with sarcasm. Erron chuckled lightly, he never really laughed, but Virion was a bit full of himself, so seeing him brought down a peg or two was quite funny.

"Well I am glad YOU are finding this funny," Virion was pouting once more. "I offer you tea, and you give me insults! Humph!" He puffed his chest out like a swan and walked off, leaving Erron with Cherche.

"He isn't as bad as you think." Cherche's light smile returned.

"I haven't met anyone so arrogant in all my life." Erron never minced words, he was always brutally honest. Cherche laughed a little then began to walk off.

"I'll get him back, stay here." She gave another polite smile and waved. "Stay a while Erron, your company is nice." As she left Erron finished the rest of his tea and then waited for Virion to return.

(This will be entertaining…)

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Valm! The characters from Valm are actually some of my favourites, so I enjoyed writing about Chon'sin and Rosanne. I would have wrote more for Chon'sin…but in the game, Chon'sin really isn't explored that much, but Rosanne is different. Since Virion has an auspicious French accent, I imagined Rosanne to be a cross of old France and Italy, two beautiful and diverse countries. Once again I am sorry for the lateness, college eats my time, but I made this chapter longer for you to compensate! As always, give me your reviews and criticism! **-Muffin**


	9. Chapter 9: Weakness

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 9 is here! First thing I want to address is reviews, thanks for leaving them as they help out, but mainly I want to respond to them. Firstly, people like Olivia…a lot it seems, don't worry she'll be back, but I will say; I like Cherche more than Olivia, but I will also say, Olivia's personality contrasts in a nicer way with Erron's. (The fierce loner-swordsman and the timid and shy dancer, it can be funny and sweet, which I love.) Cherche is a whole different story, she is strong, but she is kind and holds love for her family and her people, she rides a damned wyvern into battle, she is one tough cookie! She is a warrior, so a kindred spirit lies between her and Erron, but even I am not sure who I want to be paired up at the end of this story. (I am on the fly for this, almost entirely. Some events I plan, but mostly I'm winging it.) And secondly, in the closing comments of the last chapter, I said imagined Rosanne to be like a hybrid country of France and Italy. (Virion's accent mainly led me to think so.) A review was left, suggesting I use different languages to increase the authenticity of Rosanne's people. I didn't think about this at all when writing chapter 8, but I have an answer; it may come down to my skill as a writer, I did say this was my first fic after all. And secondly, it didn't cross my mind mainly because of Cherche and Virion's dialogue in-game; Virion has an accent, but his dialogue is more like Maribelle's, fancy vocabulary and proper wording. Cherche doesn't have an accent at all, which confused me on my first play through of Awakening, but her text is like Frederick's; As she is Virion's personal Knight, she speaks in the same official manner. These factors made me forget that they were from a foreign country, I'm not sure if that's the game's fault, or I'm just a dingus. Anyways, that was the longest foreword I have ever wrote. Enjoy chapter 9!

 _ **Aristocracy…**_  
It turns out that what Virion wanted was for Erron to become a vassal, much like Cherche. Erron wasn't ready to return to Ferox, Ylisse had nothing left for him and Plegia was a damned desert; he hated heat, a lot. So he decided to stay for a year or so. Unlike the role of Feroxi Champion, vassalage was rather dull in comparison; No roar of the coliseum, no bandits to slay and too much…frivolity. Virion attended many 'soirées' as he put them, basically fancy parties which Erron hated going to, there were too many people; all of them loud and obnoxious, he had to wear formal attire and even had to braid his ponytail; Virion said it made him look like a gentlemen, Cherche on the other hand, laughed. The wyvern rider was the only person Erron could stand, she was a kind woman, she repaired Erron's attire as she knew how to sew, she helped him cope with the norms of high society and was generally more down to earth than Virion.

"Have you ever flown, Erron?" The two vassals were in the training yard of Virion's castle, Cherche was sat on a hay bale petting her giant mount whilst Erron was practicing archery, he hadn't been hunting recently so he was using Virion's training equipment to keep sharp.

"No." He had an arrow notched and was trying to focus, Cherche signalled to her obsidian wyvern and it walked over and blew hot air into Erron's hair. "Minerva, please."

"She's certainly taken a liking to you." Cherche chuckled then strode over and stroked Minerva's chin, the black wyvern hummed. "That's why I asked if you've flown, have you any experience with wyverns?"

"I've read a few books on wyvern ecology." He fired off a quick arrow nailing a practice dummy in the head. "But my knowledge ends there." He fired a second arrow, splitting the first.

"You could learn more," She mounted Minerva and extended her hand to Erron. "First hand." She gave her usual polite smile.

"I'm not flying. End of." He fired one last arrow, splitting the last two.

"Afraid of heights are we?" The rider adorned her usual sarcastic tone.

"No. Not heights." Erron hated every bit about his phobia. "…Touch…" He looked at his hand then clenched it tightly. Cherche's face fell and she began to apologise.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable…" She retracted her hand and placed it on Minerva's back, petting her slightly.

"You didn't know, you needn't apologise." He placed the bow and quiver on a rack, then untied Hoissurā from his waist. Minerva started licking his hand, almost apologetically, Erron petted the wyvern's head cautiously.

"…How did it start?" Cherche didn't want to pry, but she was curious that a peerless swordsman could be disarmed merely by a pat on the back. Erron sighed deeply and recalled his tale.

"I lost my family and my home when I was a child," His eyes glazed over as he petted Minerva's head. "I was alone…for so long, no one batted an eye; I grew to shun anyone away and if anyone touched me…I thought it would be so they could hurt me." He pulled his hand away from Minerva and the wyvern whimpered. "I can't even shake someone's hand. It's pathetic, it's a weakness."

"Have you tried to overcome it?" Cherche was attentively listening to Erron's story, she couldn't feel anything but sympathy, she still had her family and her life was easy compared to the swordsman's.

"Of course, but always to no avail." He started doing some mindless shadow-fencing. "I can ignore it in a fight…but no more than that." They were both silent for a while before Cherche spoke up.

"I could help," Erron turned to the kind rider. "If you'd like, that is." Erron was shocked at Cherche's words, whenever he talked to someone about his phobia, which he rarely did in the first place, people would say 'Oh I'm sorry' no one ever offered to help.

"…Uh…I'm n-not sure…" He was bewildered by such kindness. "…How would you even go about it?" Cherche pondered for a few seconds.

"Aversion therapy!" She smiled with exuberance.

"…Cherche…thank you, it'd be greatly appreciated." He showed one of his rare smiles and continued to shadowfence, Minerva hummed with content, as if it knew it's master and friend were happy.

 _ **Fear…**_  
Cherche began to work on Erron's phobia, she managed to find a book in the healers quarters about estranged fears. Haphephobia was his; the fear of physical contact, voluntary or involuntary. It started out basically, trying to shake hands, placing a hand on Erron's shoulder; at first it even pained him to do it, but it gradually became easier. But when he put it into practice and tried to shake Virion's hand, he froze up and walked away, to Virion's surprise. It seemed as if the only person he could touch was Cherche, only due to the fact she had been the one helping him in the first place. But still he had managed to bear it with Cherche, just enough for him to be able to ride on Minerva without being uncomfortable. So true to her word; the wyvern rider took Erron to Wyvern Valley, the sight was amazing. A huge canyon with bridges connecting the rock platforms, with wyverns of all sizes flying everywhere, Cherche let Minerva roam free for a while, whilst the two vassals sat down by a tree and watched the wyverns fly.

"Aren't they adorable!" Cherche was excitedly watching the magnificent beasts.

"Not the word I'd use," He smirked. "But they are fascinating creatures." He saw Minerva flying gracefully. "How did you even come across Minerva anyways?" He had always wondered how riders obtained their wyverns.

"I wandered into this place when I was a child, Minerva was only a baby and she followed me home." She recalled her story with fondness. "I was training to be a cleric at that time, so I bonked her head with my staff when she misbehaved, soon I was riding her everywhere!"

"That's actually incredible," Erron looked at the rider then back to Minerva. "You've been friends with her since you were both young…" He smiled sadly.

"You may not have had the most…ideal…childhood, but you have allies now!" Cherche got the attention of the Nomad. "You must have made friends on your travels, also you have Virion and I." Erron wondered how a woman with such ferocity in battle could be so kindhearted.

"…You know I won't stay in Rosanne forever…" He still had to find answers, he had to become stronger. "I will leave one day." Cherche sighed and gazed at the flying wyverns.

"Ah, the fate of all Nomads…" She was saddened by the almost hollow words Erron had said. "You'll always be welcome in Rosanne, I'll make sure of it." She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I'll hold you to your word." A heartfelt smile graced his face, his years in Rosanne were brief, but it was the most peaceful he had been in his life. He stood and raised his hood and cowl, his time had come. "Tell Virion I'm thankful," He began to walk away. "Till our paths cross again Cherche, farewell." He waved loosely as the rider called out to him.

"Don't get yourself killed!" She smiled sadly and waved off Erron, Minerva landed by Cherche and looked around quizzically. "He's going for a while Minervykins." She petted her wyvern. "But I trust that he'll come back…one day." Minerva purred as the two headed back to Virion's castle.

(…I can't stay…for my own selfish reasons…)

He headed south, for one of Valm's many ports. His mind was set, the arid wasteland; Plegia.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Sorry for this being so late, I've been having to look after my place, since my family are on holiday. Also I had a little writer's block, mainly due to tiredness, I shall try to be more consistent. Thank you all for reading! I welcome reviews and criticism! **-Muffin**


	10. Chapter 10: Wolf In The Sand

_**Foreword**_  
Double digits! Chapter 10! We leave Valm on a happier note, Erron has made allies in Chon'sin and Rosanne and left knowing he could always come back. But now we head for Plegia! And maybe a certain Dark Mage will appear, who knows!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters. Sorry I keep forgetting to add this…please don't hurt me Nintendo!) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Heat…**_  
Plegia was a stupid idea, it was so. Damn. HOT. Erron's blood and training made the cold feel like a breeze, but intense heat was not his thing, especially considering his cloak and robes were all black. (Wei'lu why didn't you get this in white!) He was going to collapse, he was incredibly thirsty, like dehydration levels of thirsty. He had been walking for days, straight, the boiling days were tough, but at night, he could travel in the cold with great ease. He was conditioned, but he needed water, fast. He had heard that immense heat could play tricks on your mind, namely oases; solitary water springs surrounded by vegetation in the middle of deserts, they existed, but if your brain is shot with heat, you might hallucinate them. But this one looked so real, Erron took the chance and headed to it, there were tall trees bearing fruit and many plants. He stumbled through to the centre and a deep, clear spring. He knelt down and began to fill up his canteen with water, he washed his face and took a long drink. It seems that he wasn't alone, someone was stood watching him drink like an animal.

"Hello." A sly voice said, Erron turned to see a woman with hair the same black shade as his own and with pale white skin, she had a few books with her and what appeared to be utensils of some kind. "Are you okay?" She didn't seem overly concerned, in fact her tone was that of boredom.

"Yeah," He was a bit surprised to see someone else here, in a desert…and she wasn't wearing much. "Your…ahem…attire, you are a Mage, correct?" He didn't want to draw attention to the fact this woman was rather scantily-clad.

"A Dark Mage to be exact." She held her books to her chest and looked down, whilst still keeping eye contact. "Why are you here? Your accent isn't Plegian."

"I am a Nomad, but I grew up in Ylisstol." He was still filling up his canteen. "I've been across the world, just not Plegia."

"You picked a bad time to come to Plegia…" She seemed annoyed. "Tensions are rising between Plegia and Ylisse," She looked into the distance. "The people fear war. Our King, Gangrel, is a madman."

"Great. The one time I come the Plegia, and war is brewing. Lucky me." He had hoped the worst thing in Plegia was Sand Raiders, not a damned war! "I guess I should leav-" He halted, the woman was stood under a tree, and a slender green snake reeled itself down. "Don't. Move." The Mage looked skeptically, she hadn't seen the snake.

"What are you talking about?" She was oblivious to the serpent, it hissed loudly and coiled, only now did she notice. It latched onto her neck and squirmed vigorously, the Mage was hurt, she stifled her pain. Erron quickly squeezed the snake's head, causing it to let go of the woman's neck, he threw it into the foliage and steadied the Mage, she was breathing coarsely. Erron braced himself hard for what he needed to do, he had to remove the venom from the wound before it would poison the woman's blood. Which meant touching her, more specifically sucking the venom from the bite mark. (Oh gods…this is horrible.) Every fibre of his body wanted to not do it, he hated touch, let alone sucking someone's neck! But he couldn't let this woman die.

 _ **Discomfort…**_  
It was horrible, if touching this woman was bad enough, sucking venom from an open wound was hell on earth. He just had to put up with it, he sucked out a load of venom and spat it to the ground. (That's…disgusting…) He did so another few times until the woman's breathing regulated.

"My…village…is there…" She loosely pointed in a direction. There was still poison in her system; ignoring the urge to vomit, Erron picked up the Mage and hurried in the direction she had pointed to. The village wasn't far from the oasis, that made sense; it was a constant supply of water. When he arrived he was approached by a tall, aged woman with the same black hair as the younger Mage, she had a confused look on her face.

"Wait, Tharja? Oh gods!" Erron was tired from running to the village. But he managed to get a word out without vomiting.

"She was bitten by a Snake." He was more urgent than his usual calm demeanour. "It wasn't long ago." The older woman; whom Erron assumed was this 'Tharja's' mother, they looked similar enough, took the younger Mage and headed for a hut. A few minutes had passed and Erron was at the edge of the village, vomiting. The venom or blood wasn't the cause, albeit it left a horrible taste in his mouth, it was the fact that he had been so…close with someone. He, quite literally, had put his mouth on a person, his phobia was going havoc. He felt like his face was burning, when he was finished he was approached by the woman that took Tharja to be healed.

"You, swordsman," She shared the same droll tone as Tharja, she must have been her mother. "Thank you, so much for helping my daughter." There was a hint of sincerity in her voice.

"Think nothing of it, if someone is hurt I will help them." He still felt queasy but he would live. "Anyways, my name is Erron." He bowed his head out of courtesy. "I'm glad I could help."

"How did you know to suck out the poison?" Erron had now noticed the woman wore a large cloak, she was a shaman of some kind.

"I'm a Nomad, surviving is what I am best at." His days in the wilds had made him a true survivalist. "And I read whenever I can. Medical knowledge is important."

"You are a priest?" Not many people studied medicine, except mainly priests and clerics.

"I am merely a traveling swordsman." The hot wind began to settle as night began to fall. "…I should go, I travel best at night."

"Stay for the night, I'm sure Tharja will thank you tomorrow." She smiled at Erron. Erron wanted to go, but he wouldn't turn down such hospitality.

"Of course, thank you kindly." He was staying in a small room on a bedroll, in a sandstone building, sleeping in a desert was surreal. After a while he heard strange noises, it sounded like a fire crackling, also he heard some kind of ominous chanting. Upon leaving the house he saw a strange glow at the outskirts of the village.

"Grant him…peace, for he walks the road of death." It was the raven haired Mage, Tharja; she was placing strange items into a purple flame. She was performing some kind of hex, Erron walked over to the Dark Mage.

"A curse…of peace?" He knew that curses and hexes didn't always have to be for malicious purposes, but he didn't think many Dark Mages actually used them.

"Hm, oh. Hello." Tharja turned to the swordsman. "I was just cursing…you."

"You put a curse on me? Why?" First off, the idea of being cursed didn't sit right with Erron, good curse or not.

"Because you saved my life, thanks for that by the way." Tharja's nonchalance baffled Erron.

"So you cursed me to be safe," Dark Mages were supposed to be evil and sadistic right? Tharja seemed a bit ominous, but she had hexed someone to be happy. "Thank you, Tharja. My name is-" He was cut off.

"Erron Wolfe, right?" Erron became very defensive, he never told her his name before. "When you curse people you have to know…a lot about them, so I took some of your hair whilst you slept. For research purposes." Erron was disturbed by this, greatly.

"You took hair from me, whilst I was asleep?! Firstly, that's creepy. Secondly how could you know my name from a strand of hair. Thirdly…you didn't…touch me, did you?" If she said yes, his phobia would flare up and he would panic.

"No. I merely plucked a hair from your head, nothing more." She could sense that contact unnerved the Nomad.

"Good, well I'm glad you're okay." He composed himself, someone messing with him as he slept made him feel…weird, but she did so to keep him safe, which reassured him…slightly.

"…As I said, you shouldn't be in Plegia…" The Mage spoke sadly. "…The army marches for my village tomorrow…" (Wait…) Erron thought to himself. "…I'm enlisting…"

"…You don't want to fight, do you?" Tharja only nodded. "They're threatening your family aren't they?" Once again the Dark Mage nodded. "…How many approach, I'll stop them…" Tharja was stunned by the resolute swordsman.

"Hundreds, you couldn't fight them all." The Plegian army was large, most of them forced against their will. "You need to leave tonight, if you are seen, they'll kill you."

"They'll die trying." Erron had lived his life fighting, he wasn't afraid. "I don't want this place to be ravaged by war." Tharja stood awkwardly close to Erron.

"Please, if I join, they'll leave us alone." She whispered in his ear, Erron felt uncomfortable with someone so close to him.

 _"_ _Voluntatem tuam flectit ad me."_

…

"Wait why didn't that work? My frog was too stale, damn." Tharja was cursing her curse.

"A curse means nothing if the victim's willpower is stronger than the hexer's." Erron read about menial things all the time, he had come across a tome with knowledge of curses. He didn't think he'd ever need the knowledge, apparently he was wrong. "But I understand that you want to do this alone…who am I to doubt the convictions of others." He pushed Tharja away and began to walk off. "If I see you on the battlefield, know that I will not fight." The Mage was left bewildered, as Erron headed east, for the Plegia-Ylisse border.

(Will _they_ be there?)

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Creepy stalker waifu! Yaaaay! I wasn't sure whether to have Henry or Tharja in this chapter, on one hand; the blood fetishist Dark Mage, or the ominous stalker Dark Mage. Both would make humorous conversations, but I chose Tharja due to Henry's love of killing. Erron holds great regret for his actions, whilst Henry gets off at picking scabs; I feel it would be more confrontational than funny. But anyways thanks for reading! I welcome your reviews and stuff! **-Muffin**

 _ **Extras**_  
The curse that Tharja placed, I wrote it in Latin, hooray for dead languages! Rough translation, it means 'Your will bends to me.' Tharja was gonna curse Erron to force him to leave. For once I am glad my stupid school taught us two years of Latin.


	11. Chapter 11: Prodigal Son

_**Foreword**_

Chapter 11! Plegia was brief, sorry about that. We come back a lot in the main story anyways, the time to join The Shepherds approaches, awkward socialising TO THE EXTREEEEME!

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is transitions, brackets are thoughts or whispers)

 _ **Memories…**_  
Walking the streets of Ylisstol drew sentiment from Erron's heart, the streets he lived on as a child, somehow he felt at home. A hearty baker was selling off his produce, unbeknownst to him, a hooded figure had placed a sizeable pouch of gold coins at the stall, but took no food. (Sorry about my mischief, I hope this makes up for it…) As he walked off he heard the baker shouting something about his lucky day. He had got to Ylisse after guising as a mercenary, the border guard was a tall tanned man named Mustafa, he was kind and let Erron through with no trouble.

 _"Mercenary eh? One of those 'I work alone' types I'm guessing?" The old border guard said, looking over Erron._

 _"You could say that..." Erron said flatly._

 _"...If you think you're fooling anyone you're crazy..." Mustafa said quietly to the young swordsman. "Ylissean...why are you here?" He was purposely trying to keep the attention of the other guards away._

 _"I'm going...home." He felt happy upon saying that word._

 _"Aye, well I'll let you through..." Mustafa said._

 _"Why?" Erron said questioningly._

 _"Because war is afoot lad. And I don't want to fight any more." He shouted back to the other guards. "This one's fine! Let him through!" He then turned back to the young man. "Go, live a life that old bags like me can't."_

 _"Thank you, Mustafa." He bowed and continued his journey._

He had a place in mind which he needed to go, to pay respects.

 _ **Foresight...**_  
A month had passed since the young sword fighter had traveled from the desolation of the future, wandering Ylisstol was strange for her, as it was not burning or half-destroyed. She was determined, if the stories were true from her mother; the Black Wolf would be here today, outside of a half built house. She could see a cloaked and hooded figure was knelt by the front of a building site for a house, he planted a red flower in the front garden and placed his hand on one of the timbers. (That…must be him!) The cloaked figure stood and began to walk away slowly, she decided to follow him. She tracked the hooded man for a while, but he took a turn into an alley. (I can't lose him!) Her following was cut off literally, as she found a sword pointed at her face.

"Why are you following me." The hooded man's voice was deep and calm, he had no identifiable accent. "Explain yourself."

 _ **Masquerade…**_  
Erron's pursuer lowered her hood to reveal a mask. (Well that didn't help.) She wasn't very tall and had dark azure hair.

"My name is Marth." The young woman began to explain. "I mean you no harm sire." Erron lowered his blade and sheathed it, the woman sounded sincere enough.

"After the Hero-King of Akaneian legend?" He wasn't impressed. "You take the name of a legendary warrior, what right do you have to bear it?" He had studied the legends of ancient warriors extensively.

"Look there isn't time for me to explain, you are Erron Wolfe correct?" Marth tried to reason with the tall swordsman.

"Hmph, what do you want?" He had came to pay respects, not to be questioned by masqueraded fighters.

"Tonight, there is a plot on Exalt Emmeryn's life." Erron was of upmost skepticism. But Marth continued. "I do not expect you to believe me…but I am not from this time." This took Erron aback. (Time?) "If Emmeryn is killed tonight, our world is doomed." Erron was trying to comprehend the situation.

"That would explain how you know my name…" As unflappable as he was, the thought of temporal movement puzzled him. "If you know this why can't you prevent it?" Marth hesitated.

"I can't meddle directly in the events of time, I can only push this time's people to do it." She knew she couldn't, but if Erron didn't help she'd have to do it herself.

"I can sense the conviction in your words." Marth looked up at the swordsman. He lowered his hood to prove his point. "I shall assist you how I can, The Exalt wishes for peace anyways. Her death would bring Plegia to war…"

"If she were to die here, a chain reaction of events would happen…that would bring about this world's end." The young swordswoman spoke grimly.

"Calm yourself, you have my sword." He saw that the woman was distressed. "Nightfall is soon, and if what you say is true; we need to head to the castle. Quickly." They both headed off; Marth leading with Erron following.

 _ **Royalty…**_  
Marth somehow knew about a broken wall in the castle's citadel, they both stood in a courtyard, it was unnervingly quiet.

"Find a way inside, I have to stay here." Marth was hidden by some foliage, Erron moved to one of the castle's walls. (Easy enough.) Using gaps between bricks, chips in the wall and overall agility he had climbed up a story in a few seconds. He snuck around the second floor of the castle, looking down at the empty halls. The only noise he could hear was Marth talking to people. Something about proof, then he heard the sound of steel, he saw that below him in the halls, were soldiers, a lot of soldiers; Cavaliers, Knights, Mages and Thieves.

"You! Do you serve Lord Validar!" He heard a voice calling to him. (Great…) He turned to see an axe wielding Barbarian and a couple of Mages.

"I serve no man, I'm my own master now." Erron stood and drew his sword. "Now leave this place or die. I don't care which."

"We aren't standing down!" They said confidently.

"Foolish." Erron closed the distance between himself and the assassins in an instant, running the Barbarian through the neck. "I warned you." He pulled his blade back out of the gurgling warrior and blitzed through the two mages without breaking a sweat. (I did give them a chance.) As he hurried quietly across the higher balcony he was watching what took place, many soldiers fighting, those wearing Ylissean colours or these assassins. He had cut down a few more snipers trying to get a high ground advantage. The lighting in the halls below would allow him to sneak around, silently he dropped down a floor and slinked by the pillars, he saw Marth; she had been unmasked recently and was defending a door, presumably the Exalt was behind it. She looked visibly exhausted, but she was still fighting off enemies. She was faltering as a Myrmidon looked to finish her. She thought she was finished, but she heard a clash of steel instead.

"Leave her be!" Erron parried two strikes neatly, using the momentum to cut horizontally at his foe's gut. The Myrmidon fell to his knees clutching his stomach, which was spilling blood.

"Who. Sent. You." Erron used his sheath to raise the dying assassins head.

"We…follow…Grima…" He spurted out, then preceded to fall to his side and die.

"Thank you Erron." She was panting heavily.

"You would have done the same." Their recuperation was cut off by a large ball of flame, heading at them with speed. They both managed to dodge it, but it left a large char mark on the wall behind them.

"You cannot change fate! This was all written!" A tall, slender man stood with flame emanating from his hands, he wore Plegian Sorceror's robes. "Destiny cannot be chan-"

"Shut up and fight, or leave now. I don't care for your exposition old man." Erron wasn't tired from fighting, he signalled Marth to leave, and he stood against the Sorceror one on one.

"Cocky aren't you? You'll die like your precious Exalt!" He readied another blast from his Elfire tome. Erron sheathed his sword, the enemy Sorceror looked confused. "Accepting defeat are we? Ha! Pathetic!" At blinding speed Erron was already behind the Sorceror with his sword unsheathed. The Sorceror felt his left knee give way, and realised he didn't have a shin left.

"If you spouted less garbage, you would still have a leg." He pressed his sword's tip at the back of the dying Mage's neck. "I'd make your peace now."

"Grima shall damn you all!" He shouted in pain.

"Poor choice of words fool." Erron stabbed through the back of the Sorceror's neck and kicked him off of his sword. Marth ran up to him rather excitedly.

"You realise you just averted the worlds end." She sounded tired, like her job was done. "I cannot thank you enough."

"…I feel this isn't over…" He heard footsteps and saw a group of people heading towards himself and Marth. "I think I will go now." Marth quickly spoke up.

"Keep an eye on them, I trust you to look out for them." Erron only waved with his off hand and sneaked away before the group of soldiers arrived.

(What have I got myself into now…)

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Our first interaction with main story events! Erron helped stop the attempt on Emmeryn's life, also meeting 'Marth' in the process. Please leave your reviews and criticism! **-Muffin**


	12. Chapter 12: A Wolf Among Shepherds

_**Foreword**_  
My internet has been acting up, so I couldn't get Chapter 11 up when I wanted to, so you get 11 and 12 at the same time! Hooray! Finally, it is time for the big join up, The Shepherds have left Ylisstol with the Exalt and are trying to flee, this takes place just after the plot on Emmeryn's life; so the night before they reach Breakneck Pass. Anyways enjoy Chapter 12!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or its characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold is transitions and brackets are thoughts or whispers.)

 _ **Shadowing…**_  
Somehow Erron felt compelled to do what Marth had said, he was following The Exalt and her soldiers as they were leaving Ylisstol, they were travelling through a forest, at night. Whilst they stuck to a road, Erron was sneaking around the trees, obscured from the sight of the soldiers. He had learned to be stealthy whilst hunting, also by doing somewhat…shady jobs for Basilio.

"Emm are you okay? I know you aren't use to travelling like this." Erron looked to see a man with dark blue hair wearing rather fancy armour, with a clean white cape, he bore a mark on his arm. (The brand of the Exalt?) Erron recognised that the 'Emm' he was talking to was infact the Exalt of Ylisse herself.

"Thank you for your concern Chrom but I am fine." She spoke very softly to this 'Chrom' character, amongst them were mainly soldiers, but there were a few that stood out. Two Cavaliers one adorned in green one in red, a young cleric girl, a bare chested axe fighter, a Pegasus Knight that…seemed familiar and a blue haired arch-wait. (WHY IS VIRION HERE?!) As to be expected he was flirting with the aforementioned red cavalier, who wasn't taking it well.

"Exalt Emmeryn I believe we should make camp soon, Ylisstol is far behind us and we will need to be rested for the journey ahead." A blue armoured Knight on horseback spoke with a reserved tone, he had neat brown hair and a stern face. Erron's ears pricked, he could hear a bow string being drawn from a distance, he frantically looked for the source of the noise. There was no time, Erron shouted.

"ARCHERS! GET DOWN!" The group all readied for a fight as the green Cavalier got shot in his shoulder. He grunted and fell off of his horse. As quickly as the arrow had fired, human like creatures charged out of the woods, they had glowing red eyes and a purple haze emanating from their mouths. The soldiers began fighting them off, except for the Pegasus Knight who was struggling to control her Pegasus. One of the creatures rushed towards her with an axe raised.

 _ **Saviour…**_  
"SUMIA!" Chrom shouted, the girl was paralysed with fear, but felt no pain. She looked up to see the monster fading into dust, a tall hooded figure stood, his slim blade shining in the moonlight.

"Are you alright." His voice was calm and reserved, he didn't turn to face the woman. She timidly spoke up.

"Y-yes, thank y-you." The voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't remember why. As fast as he had arrived he was joining the fray, cutting down the creatures without any effort at all. Erron was advancing through these…monsters. (What are these things?) His thought was cut off as he saw the soldiers' apparent leader being surrounded by the creatures. Erron cut through into the circle and stood back to back with the azure haired man.

"Who are you?" He turned his head, but still tried to fight off the monsters.

"An ally." Erron had cut down three of his foes in rapid succession, leaving the blue haired man in shock. "Stand fast, we aren't done yet."

"Right!" The two played off of each other remarkably, when one of them blocked, the other intervened, in no time at all the ambush had ceased. The creatures faded to dust, Erron sheathed his sword with a flourish and exhaled deeply. They stood in awe at the hooded warrior who hadn't even gotten tired from fighting. He was approached by the blue haired swordsman, the Knight on horseback and the Exalt herself. "Thank you for your assistance, we may have lost a soldier or two if you hadn't helped." The young man said.

"Tend to your injured." Erron pointed to the green armoured cavalier. The blue armoured Knight huffed, got off of his horse and spoke up with annoyance.

"I'd advise you to speak with respect to the Prince." He stood tall with his arms behind his back. Erron squared up to the Knight, only being a little shorter than him, who even was wearing full armour.

"Back off." Erron said those words with spite. He hated being talked down to. Before the Knight could retaliate, the Prince spoke up.

"Frederick, he saved us. Not everyone is out to kill me you know." He then turned to Erron. "I am Chrom, Prince of Ylisse." Chrom extended his hand. Erron bowed, without accepting his handshake.

"I am a friend, nothing more." Before Frederick could spout anything more about respect, the Exalt walked forward, she had long blonde hair and spoke very softly.

"You have my gratitude, swordsman." Erron bent to a knee, he didn't care much for royalty, but he respected the ideals of Ylisse's Exalt.

"Think nothing of it, Exalt Emmeryn." He stood and lowered his cowl and hood. "My name is…Erron Wolfe." They were shocked by his appearance. He had long black hair that fell past his ears, it also obscured his left eye from sight and his right eye partially. His eyes were a deep red and looked fierce.

"…Erron, it is you Erron!" The Pegasus Knight that Erron saved had rushed over after seeing the mans face and hearing his name, she tripped and fell in front of him but quickly stood up and dusted herself off. "It's been so long! How have you been!"

"…Sumia…it has been a while, hasn't it?" A slight smile graced his face, his friend from childhood was here. "About eight years or so…"

"Sumia, you know this man?" Chrom said, puzzled.

"I've known him since I was little!" She spoke excitedly. "We met in Ylisse when I was about five or six!"

"She's a good…friend." He looked down at the young rider. "I see you did become a Pegasus knight, I'm proud of you." Sumia gave him a hug, much to Erron's discomfort. "…Sumia…remember…contact…" She pulled away and was blushing madly.

"Oh gods I completely forgot, I am so sorry!" Chrom cleared his throat and got Erron's attention.

"Your ability with a sword is remarkable, you didn't even break a sweat whilst fighting." He questioned Erron. "How can you move so quickly, and with such precision?"

"Years of fighting to survive." At this point a man with black and purple robes walked up, he had silver hair and was of average height.

"Such skill would be greatly appreciated," He then turned to face Chrom. "Also, we are in need of men."

"Good call Robin." Chrom looked at Erron with determination in his eyes. "Would you join The Shepherds?" Erron stood hesitantly. (Join them? …They are way too trusting…but if what Marth said is true, I must keep them safe.)

"…You have my sword…" Sumia smiled with glee, Robin nodded and Chrom smiled.

"Welcome aboard!" Said Chrom.

"You should make camp soon, there shouldn't be anymore of those things around." Erron spoke, whilst looking around at his surroundings.

 _ **Respite…**_  
The camp was simple, tents strewn around with campfires in different places. Most of the 'Shepherds' we're talking about menial things. Erron was sat cross legged underneath a tree, he had picked an apple from it and was enjoying the fruit. At that point the silver haired man called Robin approached.

"Erron isn't it?" He spoke with a smile on his face, Erron nodded as his mouth was still full with apple. "Can you come with me? I need to ask you some questions, for our roster."

"Sure." He had finished his apple, core and all, Robin led him to his tent, maps and tomes were everywhere.

"Please, take a seat." They both sat down and Robin pulled out a large book and opened to a blank page. "This is our roster, it's for keeping track of all the Shepherds." He patted the book with pride. "I update it whenever we get new recruits, that's why you're here."

"So you need information about me. Life, personality, skills; things like that?" Erron was sat with his arms crossed, he had put his cloak in his tent that he was given. So he was wearing his black sword fighter robes and let his hair hang free, except for a loose ponytail behind his head.

"Pretty much, so let's get started. Okay, country of birth?" Robin began the questions.

"…None, I was born at sea." Robin looked quite surprised.

"Wow, okay then. Date of birth?" The Tactician was checking a list.

"November thirteenth."

"Alright, unit? By your robes I'd assume you were a Myrmidon." Robin looked Erron up and down.

"I fight differently to them, just put…Nomad." Robin looked at him skeptically.

"Nomad?"

"I follow the old plainsman's teachings; Father Sky gave this world life, and Mother Earth sustains it." He was taught the nomadic lifestyle by Wei'lu.

"Interesting, could you tell me more another time?" Robin seemed genuinely interested.

"Of course, not many people have asked." He was glad that someone took interest into his lifestyle.

"Okay here's what I have. Erron – A Nomad who has seen most of the world despite his youth. A skilled hunter and swordsman, he has survived many years in the wild. The least likely to shake hands." All of it was pretty accurate, even the last part.

"So you've seen my…distaste for touch." Robin nodded.

"You shook no one's hand when Chrom introduced you, and you flinched heavily when Sumia hugged you. I wondered if you had some kind of affliction."

"It's personal, I can overcome it in battle. So it won't be an issue." Robin smiled with understanding.

"Well I'm glad to have you aboard, I'm sure you have a lot of stories from your travels." Robin chuckled.

"I've been across Ylisse, Ferox, Valm and even Plegia. I shall tell you another time, good day Robin." He stood and left the tent as Robin waved him off.

 _ **Food…**_  
He entered the mess tent, most of those he saw earlier were in there. He walked up to where the food was being served and took a bowl of what appeared to be soup. (It smells…strange.) He sat away from the others and ate his food, it was slightly distasteful but not horrible.

"How are you eating that and not dying?" The blonde axe fighter said, this was Vaike; an arrogant buffon. "Sully's cooking is horrible!" The mentioned Cavalier merely laughed.

"Eh, I've always hated cooking, I know it's bad." She waved her arms, downplaying Vaike's comment.

"It isn't bad." He had actually finished it quite quickly. The group stared at Erron, dumbfounded.

"WHAT?" They collectively said.

"Would you rather have me spit it out? Food is food, I'm grateful for any cooking I can get." He put his bowl on a stack and then began to leave. "If you'll excuse me…" After Erron left; Vaike was shouting in disbelief,

"He must have a gut made of steel!" In actuality, Erron had been homeless, he had been hungry, and living of of game hunting could get unhealthy; he missed that greatly about Rosanne, the food there was always amazing…speaking of Rosanne, Erron was approached by a certain archer.

"Erron! My former vassal, it has been too long my friend!" He had been flirting with a random female soldier. "We should catch up soon! Over some fine tea maybe?"

"Another day Virion, I am tired." As he passed Virion, Erron did remember to ask him something. "…Is Cherche alright? I can see she isn't with you…"

"Ah, she is holding down the fort whilst I am gone, she is fine last I heard. You needn't be concerned friend!" Despite his insufferable ego, Erron was glad that Virion was around. At least then he had someone to talk to, along with Sumia.

"Thanks Virion, farewell for now" Erron walked off back to his tent, he placed his sword next to his bedroll and began to disrobe, he took out his hair band, allowing his hair to lie flat. He drifted off to sleep quite easily.

(…They all seem very friendly…insufferably so.)

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
We have now joined the Shepherds! Finally! I hope you're enjoying reading as much as I am writing, as always I welcome reviews and criticism! **-Muffin**


	13. Chapter 13: Oathbound

_**Foreword**_  
Lucky 13! Last time Erron joined the Shepherds, now we are still fleeing with the Exalt, we will also be reunited with a few familiar faces. Enjoy!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or its characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold is text transitions and

 _ **Light…**_  
Sunlight was filtering through Erron's tent, he had slept well, but was awoken by the sounds of people shouting, the Shepherds were performing some kind of training. At that point heard someone at outside his tent.

"Um Erron isn't it?" The voice was chirpy. "Robin and Chrom want you to train with the others, something about gauging skills." He didn't recognise the voice, so he opened his tent flap. It was Chrom's younger sister, Lissa. Her blonde hair was tied into two pigtails and she wore a yellow clerics dress.

"Tell them I shall be there soon." He was a little tired, but he would wake up soon enough. Lissa looked a little…taken aback by Erron's appearance. "…Is something wrong? You are staring."

"Oh I'm sorry, you're just a new face around here!" Her smile was infectiously cheery; but behind it lay intimidation, Erron somewhat…loomed over her, hewas very tall and his red eyes just poked through his long black hair, his arms also bore a few scars.

"Fine, I shan't be long." He put on his bracers, robes and cloak but left his hood down, then picked up Hoissurā. He tied up his hair into a ponytail and let it flow behind his head. It was bright outside, he looked around before being approached by the green armoured cavalier that was shot the other day, he had healed well.

"Ah, you're the new guy! Chrom wanted to see you." Erron remembered this man from his introduction to the Shepherds, his name was Stahl; an average guy, kind to most…also quite gluttonous, he had scruffy olive hair and a light smile. "I'll take you to them." Erron nodded and followed the cavalier to a clearing, most of the soldiers were practicing against dummies or were sparring. Stahl left to train with Sully and Erron walked over to Chrom and Robin.

"…You wished to speak with me?" Erron was fully awake now.

"Ah yes, I'd like to spar with you!" Chrom picked up two wooden swords and threw one to Erron, who caught it with ease. "You fight very well, I'd like to see how I compare." Erron nodded silently and the two stood opposing each other. It appeared a small crowd had formed, consisting of the other Shepherds.

"C'mon Chrom!"

"Show the new guy who's boss!"

"Teach him some respect milord."

"Pay no mind to them, they can be…a little excitable." Chrom chuckled a little, then assumed his usual two handed stance.

"Hmph, raise your blade." He said with great focus. Erron stood similarly to a myrmidon, but only using one hand. "Draw!" He lunged forward and tried for an overhead swing, Chrom had blocked it, but buckled slightly.

"Gods, how strong are you?" Chrom was blocking with two hands, but Erron somehow broke his defence with one hand. The two exchanged blocks, strikes and parries, until Chrom tried for a risky forehand swing. Erron lent back, arching his body avoiding the attack fluidly, Chrom foresaw a dodge and used his momentum to throw a hard backswing at Erron's legs. This time, the nomad jumped the swipe, going to ground, but he rolled onto his shoulders and kipped-up onto his feet. His agility had stunned the crowd, Chrom tried a last ditch lunge, but was parried, knocking his blade to his left. Erron kicked the practice blade to the side, disarming Chrom. The prince had turned to see a wooden blade pressed to his neck.

"Do you yield." Erron said somewhat dissatisfied, Chrom was pretty skilled but Erron had fought stronger.

"I haven't a choice it seems!" He laughed, as Erron stabbed his sword into the ground.

"…You're good, but unrefined. You took risks, as you didn't know the extent of my ability, learn to assess your foes skills and attack accordingly. No two fighters are the same, be prepared for all circumstances." Erron spoke sagely, he had fought many opponents, so he believed his words held some merit.

"You could tell all that from that match?" Chrom was panting slightly, he'd never seen someone move so deftly. "Well I hope we can train more in the future, your skills will be of great use to our cause." Erron nodded, as Robin approached.

"Ha, I'm glad you're on our side," He clapped a few times. "You're a one man army it seems!"

"I've never needed to rely on anyone…" At that point Frederick rode up on horseback.

"Milord, it would be suitable for the troops if we ate now then leave for Breakneck Pass." Chrom nodded and smiled at Frederick.

"Good, I hear Sumia is on cooking duty, her pies are amazing!" Chrom turned to Erron and Robin. "You two get some food and be prepared to march." Erron silently nodded and Robin spoke quite excitedly.

"Great, I'm starving! Erron would you mind discussing some things while we eat?" Once again Erron nodded silently.

 _ **Strategy…**_  
Erron and Robin sat across each other, apparently Robin was a big player of chess, so as the two ate slices of pie, they played a few games. Erron had played quite a lot of chess with Virion back in Rosanne and had become pretty good at it, they were pretty even. Robin was surprised that the nomad was so skilled at the game.

"No one other than Virion has matched me in chess, I only won that last match barely!" Robin finished off the last piece of his pie.

"It's understandable that our tactician is so skilled at chess, you play in a way which conserved your units, Virion plays in a sacrificial manner." Robin brought out a book with some notes inside.

"This is the main reason I wanted to talk to you," He motioned to small sketches of soldiers. "I've found that fighting in pairs can cover weaknesses and boost certain strengths. For example, Chrom; who is a skilled ground fighter, works well with Sumia; a Pegasus knight, the two together have added mobility and combat prowess when paired." The tactician flipped through a few pages. "Your speed and supreme ability with a sword allows you to face most foes without trouble, so…pairing you with slower or weaker units would let you cover for their flaws, whilst they learn from you."

"An astute theory, it seems to have worked so far, your troops work well together." Erron was impressed by Robin's tactical knowledge. "So who am I situated with?"

"A young mage, his name is Ricken. He's quite good despite his age, but he can be a little childish." After the two had finished eating Robin led Erron to the aforementioned mage. "Ricken, this is Erron, you'll be paired with each other for the time being."

"Sure thing Robin!" He was short, had auburn hair and wore a large mages hat and mage robes, which admittedly looked a little big on him. "I'm Ricken, nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand, Erron bowed, ignoring the handshake.

"Likewise, we should get ready to march." With that the young mage picked up his tome and walked alongside the tall swordsman.

"I heard you beat Chrom whilst sparring," Ricken was rather excitable. "The only person that I've seen beat him was Frederick, you must be really good!"

"He's good, but I've been fighting longer than him. Experience won me that bout." The mage's enthusiasm was slightly irritable. "I sense that you hold Chrom in high regard, as do most of you."

"Well he's our leader! Also…he helped me out a few years ago when I was being bullied, he's a really kind guy, we all respect him." (Hmm, he leads these people with kindness…they all like him.)

 _ **Cliffs…**_  
Breakneck Pass was a craggy path, with high mountains on one side and a valley on the other; Chrom and Emmeryn were at the front, followed closely by Robin. Erron was keeping close to the front with Ricken by his side, the young mage was lagging behind a little.

"Are you tired?" Erron looked down to Ricken.

"No! I can keep going!" His legs were shaking quite violently.

"Lies, your body hasn't grown fully yet, you shouldn't be marching such long distances." Erron felt conflicted about the mage, he was determined to fight, but he was too young to be fighting in wars.

"Hey, I am not a kid!" Ricken was clearly annoyed.

"I didn't say that, I said you aren't physically capable of travelling like this, because of your age." Erron was just concerned for Ricken's wellbeing. "Next time we march, stay with the cavaliers. You could hitch-" Erron heard the distinct cry of a wyvern. He looked up at the high rocks, watching incredibly attentively for something. He kept to the ground and tracked foot prints to the cliff face. (…Ambush!) "SOLDIERS UP ON THE ROCKS! GET DOWN!" At that point, a hail of arrows came from the high cliffs. Erron guarded Ricken, taking an arrow in his left shoulder, a small trail of blood trickled from his arm.

"Erron!" Ricken ran over.

"Stay back! I'm fine." He pulled the arrow from his shoulder, wincing in pain.

"Shepherds! Get ready for combat, everyone! pair up!" Robin called out to rest of the troops. They got into their given teams; Chrom with Sumia, Sully with Miriel, Kellam with Stahl, Maribelle was with a scrawny looking guy with a pot on his head, Robin stood alone and Ricken stuck by Erron. "Erron are you okay?!"

"I'll live." Robin nodded and began calling orders to the troops.

"Erron and Ricken, stay to the valley, wyvern riders are heading towards Emmeryn!" At that point a few Pegasus knights kept close to the Exalt.

"Ricken, let's move." The mage nodded shakily and the two headed to the valleys brim. "Shoot them down." The young mage fired off two Elwind blasts, knocking one rider off his mount, the second regained his balance and made a beeline for Ricken. Wyverns can fly incredibly quick and the axe-wielding rider had the young mage fear stricken. "Not on your life." The rider was flying far too low, Erron leaped off a rock and brought his blade down at the riders chest, cutting through his armour cleanly. The wyvern flew away wildly but the soldier landed hard on the ground, he was dead before he even touched the floor. After sheathing his blade Erron headed to the scared mage. "Can you continue?"

"Y-Yeah, I was ju-just a little shocked." Ricken then nodded and followed Erron over to Robin.

"Orders?" Robin had finished shooting down another wyvern rider.

"Chrom needs reinforcement at the front, but we don't have the time…" At that point the beating of wings was heard, Erron and Robin turned to see a Pegasus knight flying closer.

 _ **Scarlet…**_  
"No! Plegians here as well?!" She was panting heavily. "Prince Chrom! Captain Phila! Enemy reinforcements to the rear! They'll be upon us soon." The Pegasus knight captain in question shouted.

"Is that…Gods, Cordelia?!" Erron froze upon hearing the name.

"Cordelia?" Robin spoke confusedly to Phila.

"She's one of my knights. Young, but quite gifted. But she was stationed on the border…Why? Oh, gods! Could it mean?" Phila spoke solemnly. Robin shouted up to the red haired knight.

"Are you capable to fight?!" Cordelia looked down.

"Y-yes I can continue!" Her voice trembled.

"Okay, this is good." You could see the gears whirring in Robin's head, he then turned to Erron and Ricken. "Ricken, you'll be with me, we'll fall back and handle the reinforcements!" Erron was broken from his trance. "Go with Cordelia to the front lines, Chrom'll need your ability!" Erron only nodded, silently as usual. With which the Pegasus knight flew down and reached out her hand.

"Get on!" In one smooth motion Erron took her hand and swung himself onto the back of the Pegasus. They flew towards the front, both of them silent.

"Cordelia…" Erron muttered. He couldn't see, but the scarlet haired knight was smiling.

"…I knew you'd come back…" She turned to face the swordsman.

"I made a promise…I shall not break it." A small tear fell from Cordelia's face. "But now…we must fight!" She nodded and dove to where Chrom and Sumia were. They faced a wyvern rider, the leader of the ambush.

"I'll splatter you across the canyon floor!" He shouted brandishing an axe as his wyvern roared. Cordelia flew low, allowing Erron to jump off the Pegasus, landing beside Chrom.

"Not while I breathe." Erron pointed his sword at the Plegian General. "Prepare yourself." Erron turned to Chrom seeing if he was okay, Chrom looked back and nodded with conviction.

"Let's go!"

"Right." The two dashed towards the general who brought his axe down at Chrom. He blocked but was struggling to hold the force back. Erron seized the opportunity, cutting at the axe itself, the handle was split in two, Chrom then jabbed at the rider's chest. This caused the wyvern to rear up and buck off its rider, he was stunned and was scrambling for a weapon. Silently, Erron stalked the downed man, gazing at him as he crawled away, he then stabbed his sword through the general's leg, nailing him to the ground. "No exit."

"You doves think…killing me will change anything?" He was coughing blood. "Heh…even now, my brothers storm across your precious border…" His laughing was coarse. "Go on, dear exalted coward! Run! Flee while they slaughter your subj-" He was silenced as Erron pulled the blade from the Plegian's leg and slit the rider's throat.

"He talked too much…" He walked off as Chrom began to discuss something with the Exalt and captain Phila.

 ** _Closing Comments_**  
Cordelia is back! Also Erron is adjusting to life amongst the shepherds, he has made allies with the tactician Robin, and the young Mage Ricken. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Reviews and criticism are always appreciated! **-Muffin**


	14. Chapter 14: Hunter's Conviction

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 14 Woo! Firstly, reviews!

 **Nimaka:** Thank you kindly for the compliment! And as for the Lon'qu thing, I said at the beginning that I wouldn't put him in…and I'm still not sure, Erron's past and personality are quite similar to Lonny boy's so I think I'll keep him benched. And on the shipping front, the people are conflicted! The front runners are Olivia, Cherche and Cordelia! Some love the timid dancer! Others like the caring wyvern rider! And lastly the childhood friend and prideful knight! As I addressed in another foreword, I'm not even sure myself!

 **dragonman1424:** Thanks for the kind words! And about Panne, weeeell that's what this chapter is about! More character interaction!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold are transitions and brackets are thoughts or whispers.)

 _ **Morning…**_  
The Shepherds were travelling to Regna Ferox for reinforcements as Ylisse's borders had been breached, the Exalt had decided to head back to Ylisstol with captain Phila, Erron thought it a foolish idea. It would be a few days before they reached the warrior nation, so most days consisted of marching, training and resting. Erron had awoke rather early to practice sword forms, as he ventured out he saw one of the Shepherds; the Taguel, Panne. He knew that she wasn't particularly fond of humans, but he empathised with her, they had both lost their families at young ages. She was eating some kind of herb and was training. The two exchanged glances and Erron began to walk off, but the Taguel spoke up.

"You, man-spawn." She didn't mince words.

"I have a name, you don't like being called a beast do you?" Erron didn't hesitate to return fire. He could hear Panne audibly growling.

"Fine…Erron isn't it?" The swordsman nodded silently, he was still tired and hadn't tied his hair, or taken his cloak. "I wish to speak with you."

"Fine, what do you want to talk about." At which point Panne leaned close to Erron and began to…sniff him. "…I understand the Taguel can be…curious…but please, closeness gives me discomfort." He didn't want to reveal much about his phobia.

"You smell like one of the Taguel." Erron had been called animal-like when hunting, or tracking. But being compared to the beast tribes?

"I have no Taguel blood…but someone told me once I hunt like a wild animal." He stepped back from the Beast-wearer, who was quite close.

"…Show me." Her voice was serious.

"I suppose I could, find me after breakfast, we shall go hunting." As he walked off to the mess tent, which he could hear voices from, he quickly called out to Panne. "Tell me more about the Taguel someday. I've heard stories from nomads…" She simply nodded and resumed her training. Erron entered the mess tent, not many people were there, so he grabbed some fruit and bread then sat at an empty table. Whilst eating he had seen Cordelia enter the tent, she had fled from the borders as her Pegasus knight comrades were slaughtered, it filled him with anger that his friend was in such pain. She had grabbed some of her own food and sat across from Erron.

"Good morning Erron!" She sounded happy, but Erron knew it was hollow. "How are you today?"

"Fine…you?" He was eating an apple, they were his favourite fruit.

"Just getting used to things around here." She stopped for a few moments then continued. "…How did you join the Shepherds anyway? Last I heard from you, you had left Ylisse…only leaving a letter behind."

"The Exalt had a plot on her life, as the Shepherds fled Ylisstol, I assisted them from those…Risen." He leaned back and looked up. "Chrom asked me to join…I did so to keep you two safe…"

"Me and Sumia?" Cordelia looked attentively at the swordsman.

"Indeed, that letter was my oath, I would never forget it." His words relieved Cordelia slightly.

"Anyways, I hear Robin wants me to fight alongside you in future battles. It helps we already know each other I guess." She was eating an apple of her own.

"I have no qualms with it." He had just finished the core of the apple. "You have no objections?"

"Of course not, it gives us a chance to catch up!" She smiled sweetly at her childhood friend. "I have to go tend to my Pegasus, I'll see you later!"

"Yeah, I have some things to do as well…" He waved off Cordelia, and was approached by Vaike after she had left.

"Heeey, I see what you're doin' she's a looker, that's for sure!" Vaike's arrogance annoyed Erron greatly.

"Hmph, can I not converse with an old friend without it being considered as flirting?" He stood and began to leave.

"What do you have that Ol' Teach doesn't! Sumia likes you, and now Cordelia does!" The urge to reply with a snide comment was too strong to resist.

"Maybe It's because I don't consider the female Shepherds as 'lookers', that or I'm not an idiot." Vaike got defensive due to that last comment.

"Hey are you implying that the Vaike is stupid?" The axe fighter looked puzzled.

"Not implying, saying." Erron didn't even look at Vaike as he left. "I haven't time for this." Vaike was unbearable, if he wasn't drunk after a fight, he was brandishing his muscles to the female Shepherds; he was like Virion, but somehow more idiotic and twice as big.

 _ **Wind…**_  
Erron had returned to his tent to prepare for hunting. He tied his hair, put on his cloak, tied Hoissurā to his waist and grabbed a bow from the arms tent. As he left, Panne approached him in her Beast Form.

"Man-spawn…I mean human, we shall hunt." Whilst Panne was in her Beast Form, her voice echoed slightly, making her sound menacing. "Come, follow me." The two left for the surrounding forests, as they got further into woodland; Erron's movements changed. He kept low to the ground with an arrow nocked at all times, following the scent in the air, and tracking footprints he had found a deer in a clearing. (One shot…quick and clean…) He raised his bow and focused his sight, taking aim at the deer's neck, it raised its head as the wind changed. (Now.) He let fly an arrow, striking the prey on its neck, it stumbled as it tried to flee but collapsed quickly. Erron approached the fallen animal, and offered a prayer.

"This harvest, is bountiful. Mother Earth we thank you." Panne was confused by the incantation.

"Why are you talking to it? It is dead, and cannot understand your language." She returned to her human form, with a smaller doe over her shoulder.

"The nomads believed that Mother Earth sustains life, by providing animals and vegetation." He removed the arrow from the deer's neck and hoisted the kill over his shoulder. "I was giving thanks."

"You track like a Taguel, your senses of hearing, sight and smell are clearly trained." The two began to head back to camp. "But you respect the creature's life. Not many humans would be the same."

"I'm not like most humans…" Panne merely grunted. "I know the loneliness you feel, I lost my family as well."

"Then why do you not hate them?" Erron looked at the treetops.

"A part of me does, and always will…but kindness can shine through." They reached the campsite. "When I was alone, people cared…you aren't alone anymore…trust me." He smiled as the two brought the prey to Robin and Chrom.

"Well you two have been busy!" They placed the two deers in the rations tent.

"It was Panne's idea." Erron glanced over at the Taguel. "I just helped." Erron left as Chrom and Robin began to thank Panne for her help. (You aren't alone anymore…)

 _ **Dusk…**_  
The sun had faded and the Shepherds were setting camp after another long march. As night had fell, some of the Shepherds were around a fire, partaking in a drinking contest. The original contestants were Gaius the theif, Vaike, Sully of all people and Robin. Gaius was out after two mugs; his sweet tooth didn't equate to alcohol tolerance, Robin was sensible and stopped after three. Leaving Sully and Vaike, they both prided themselves on their drinking ability, and they were still going after eight mugs each. Eventually after eleven, the both of them passed out, thus declaring it a draw. Erron looked on in bewilderment, he hated beer, ale or wine, they didn't sit well with him and they dulled his senses. But these people literally drunk themselves to sleep, Robin stumbled over to Erron with a mug in his hand.

"…You, want a pint?" He was slurring his words incredibly.

"I'm good." He saw Robin losing his balance. "You aren't going to feel so great tomorrow." And with that the tactician stumbled away. Erron returned to his tent and yet wasn't feeling tired, so he left his cloak in his tent but kept his sword with him. He found a clearing which would allow him to shadowfence in peace, but there was someone already there, Chrom. He was training himself, but seemed frustrated and he plunged Falchion, his sword, into the ground and cursed the air. Erron wasn't one for giving pep talks, but he did think of a way to help. He whistled loudly, grabbing Chrom's attention.

"Erron? You should rest." Chrom regained his composure.

"I could say the same to you…" Erron drew his blade and pointed it at the prince. "…But the Exalt wouldn't want her brother to be like this…" He then assumed his fighting stance. "…Raise your blade prince…let it be the one to demonstrate your convictions!" Chrom pulled Falchion from the ground and stood in his stance.

"Erron I-" He was interrupted

"Let Falchion be your speaker." And with that they clashed, Chrom fought differently, he was wiser with his strikes, and more balanced with his defences. The two swordsmen sparred for a good hour, with Erron forcing Chrom to yield each time. "Again!" They kept fighting, matching each other perfectly. "Again!" Another two hours passed, and they were both getting tired. "…Again!" The sound of clashing steel carried on through the night, untill the moon reached its highest. Chrom was leaning on his sword, and Erron was panting heavily.

"…I'm not done yet!"

"Neither...am I!"

The two clashed blades one last time, Chrom buckled and ended up dropping his sword, Erron fell to a knee, but he managed to stand and sheath his blade.

"…No one I've fought, has…" He was breathing quite heavily. "Continued for so long…" Chrom stood up and sheathed his own sword.

"I have to be strong for Emm's sake." Erron turned and walked back to camp, but stopped and turned his head.

"She trusted you for a reason." He then walked off, sufficiently tired out. He got back to his tent and disrobed, falling asleep easily after his sparring, letting his mind drift to memories.

 _ **Closing Comments**_

Woo, this one was fun! More character interactions means more dialogue, also more action! So I hope you've enjoyed reading this chapter, thanks again! Reviews and criticism please! **-Muffin**


	15. Chapter 15: Desert Storm

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 15 yahoo! We continue our journey to Ferox to get reinforcements to take of those dastardly Plegians! I hope you enjoy!

(I don't own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is for scene changing and brackets are thoughts or whispers.)

 _ **Cold…**_  
The Khan Regnant at the time, had asked the Shepherds to meet her at Ferox's Coliseum; Chrom went with a few of them; Robin, Frederick, Lissa and Sumia. Whilst the rest stayed at the Longfort's main bastion, Erron had been trying to avoid a the other Khan, luckily Basilio wasn't to be seen anywhere, meaning no confrontations from the past. They were all summoned to the main bastion, where Chrom and the new Khan Regnant, a woman named Flavia were already waiting for something.

"Chrom! Good gods, I've been looking for you everywhere!" A booming voice said, as a large dark-skinned man hurried over to the prince.

"Is something wrong?" Basilio snapped Chrom out of his doldrums.

"Our scouts have reported back. Dark news," Basilio grimaced. "I'm afraid…Ylisstol…has fallen."

"What?!" Chrom was shocked and furious.

"The Plegians captured your Exalt and retreated back across their lines. Gangrel has declared she's to be publicly executed within the moon." Chrom was completely stunned.

"E-executed?!" With which Lissa fainted, Robin had caught her though.

"Lissa? Lissa!" Robin tried to wake her, she was out completely.

"The dastard's not even trying to be subtle anymore." Flavia gripped her sword tightly and grit her teeth.

"I agree. It's an obvious trap." Robin spoke up, whilst still cradling Lissa.

"The Mad King knew our scouts would relay this information back. It's clearly a provocation, a hot brand to the buttocks! We should consider our options carefully before jumping to any-" Basilio was cut off by an enraged Chrom.

"Shepherds! We march to Plegia!" He shouted at his men.

"Ahem. Well, that would be ONE option, yes... But perhaps we've seen enough royalty waltzing into traps for one war already, eh?" He was trying to calm down the furious lord.

"I don't care if it's a trap, Basilio. He's going to murder my sister!" It clearly wasn't working.

"Peace, Chrom. Breathe a moment. No one's suggesting we don't act. We're simply saying we should act wisely. We'll need guts and wits in equal measure if we're to save your sister." Now Flavia was trying to be the voice of reason.

"The Khans are right. I'll think of something, Chrom. I promise." Robin said with resoluteness.

"…All right, Robin. I leave it to you formulate our strategy." Chrom had finally calmed.

"Are you certain you're up to the task, Robin? It won't be easy." Flavia put her hand on Robin's shoulder.

"A responsibility I do not take likely. But I am equal to the challenge." His words held conviction. With a slap on Robin's back Flavia laughed.

"Ha! You've got stones at least. I like that!" With that Basilio grabbed Chrom's arm and dragged him off.

"No hesitation, no mincing words…He's either a genius or a fool! I suppose we'll find out once we march. Hold on to your tassets, Ylisseans. We've an Exalt to save!" And so the Shepherds began the march to the Plegia-Ferox border, Erron kept away from Basilio, not wanting to bring up the past. Soon the Shepherds had crossed into Plegia's deserts, the border sands were unusually peaceful.

 _ **Heat…**_  
"Chrom! Why is it so hoooooot!" Lissa was fanning her face and dragging herself across the sandy plains.

"Yeah Chrom…can we have a break?" Even Robin was feeling the heat.

"No, we have to keep going. For Emm." The heat didn't phase Chrom, he was determined to get his sister back. Erron was walking further back in the company, the heat didn't bother him as much as it used to, but it was still worse than being in cold. He heard footsteps behind him as a spindly young man with a tin pot on his head approached.

"Mister, don't I know ya? I swear I seen that there sword 'fore." Erron looked down at the lancer, he did seem familiar, but it didn't occur to him who it was.

"…Possibly…your name escapes me." The young man looked up and gave a toothy smile at the swordsman.

"Oh I'm Donnel! But you can call me-" He was interrupted by Erron.

"Donny. I remember," It came back to him, the mountain village. "About five or six years ago…"

"I knew it was you! Mister Wolfe, right?" Donnel spoke with glee.

"Erron is my name…Wolfe is my family's." The villager stuck out his hand eagerly. "…I don't shake hands."

"Oh sorry mister…catch ya later!" Donnel then fell back to his position in the march. (…Another child, facing war…) His thoughts were broken by Cordelia.

"You seem to be making friends. Much has changed from the street boy I knew." She giggled lightly.

"Solitude changes one's perceptions on life." Erron spoke flatly, whilst Cordelia raised an eyebrow at her friend. "You have time to think about anything; life, death, friendship, war."

"Glad to see your still as gloomy as usual." She shot him a sympathetic glance

"You know my reasons." Erron looked down at his feet. "…And I know yours…"

"Wh-what?" Cordelia was taken aback. "I don't know wha-"

"Your smile hides scars Cordelia." He looked dead in his friend's eyes. "I know what happened at the border." It was Cordelia's turn to look away. "Repressing it will only make the pain grow. I know, I went through it."

"Erron…" She teared up a little.

"…I'll always listen if you need me to, you did the same for me." He wanted to reassure Cordelia, but he couldn't hold her, or place his hand on her shoulder. "Know that I am always here." Erron caught a sudden wave of heat on his face, as sand stuck to his hair.

"SANDSTORM!" Robin shouted to the Shepherds, Plegia's desert storms were as horrific as Ferox's blizzards; but they came faster and without warning. The Shepherds began to brace themselves, some shielding their faces from the dust.

"Cordelia." The panicked knight looked up at Erron. "Don't breathe." Erron raised his hood and hunkered down with Cordelia. A few minutes passed as the dust bit and stung at the two, Erron felt something warm envelop his chest. As he looked out from his hood he saw Cordelia, holding on to him as the sandstorm kept raging, he shut his eyes and tried to ignore the contact, finally after what seemed like an eternity, the storm had died down. "…Let go…please." Cordelia looked up at the swordsman and quickly pulled away.

"Oh…sorry." She was blushing lightly.

"Is everyone okay!?" Robin was looking over all the troops, most were fine, but a few were coughing from the dust. Ricken had got the worst of it, his breathing was coarse and he was choking hard. "Ricken!" Robin grabbed his canteen and gave the young mage some water.

"Plegians…they were waiting for us in the storm." Erron was stood looking ahead of the company, a settlement was being inhabited by Plegian soldiers. Chrom drew his sword and commanded to the Shepherds.

"To arms Shepherds!" Erron looked back at the prince.

"The sands are thick, our movement will be restricted." He then pointed to the mages and Pegasi. "But they'll be unhindered."

"Alright. Robin! We need a strategy." The two began to discuss appropriate tactics.

 _ **Dunes…**_  
The Shepherds took to the battlefield, most pairs consisted of a mage or Pegasus knight and a ground unit, so that they could minimise the hindrance of the sand.

"Cordelia, Erron!" Robin called to the two. "Check those buildings, the villagers may be hurt."

"Right!" Cordelia mounted her Pegasus, Erron simply nodded and boarded as well. With a pull of the reigns, they were up in the sky. Luckily no archers were present, and soon they were over an outpost, a Plegian mage tried to shoot them down with fire magic but Cordelia's skilled riding let them get close without much difficulty. "Now!" With that, Erron jumped off the winged beast and landed by the soldiers.

"Spineless cowards, you prey on the weak like jackals." He drew his blade and assumed his stance. "Death is too good for you." An opposing myrmidon dashed for a lunge, but was riposted easily and cut down in two slashes across the chest. The mage from before prepared another blast, but was halted by a javelin, spearing his side.

"That's quite enough!" Cordelia had thrown it from atop her mount, a barbarian prepared to throw an axe at her, but was stopped by a blade piercing his chest. Erron shouted up to Cordelia.

"Now we're even." He kicked the axe wielder off his sword and sheathed it, an old man walked up to him waving his arms around.

"Gods praise ye, good people! Gods praise ye one and all!" Cordelia landed her mount next to Erron. "We live in fear 'cause of those Grimleal dastards! Youse are good people!" The old man was nodding vigorously.

"Grimleal?" Cordelia questioned.

"Worshippers of the fell dragon, Grima." Erron said, his mind flashing back to Ylisstol, the sorceror's dying words. "These men are zealots, they'll kill the innocent for their god." He then turned to the old villager. "Stay safe, we'll handle them." After ensuring the settlement's safety, the two Shepherds flew back to the main force, whilst flying over they saw what appeared to be a young girl being chased by the Grimleal, she couldn't have been older than 12.

"They're chasing a child? What's wrong with these people!" Cordelia was disgusted by the zealous actions of the Grimleal. At that point the child raised her hand in the air, and a pink light enveloped her body.

"…That's not a child!" Erron had only heard stories. The light faded to reveal a huge yellow scaled dragon, it roared ferociously and scorched the Plegians with a cyan flame. "…A Manakete! Never in my life…" As the two flew low over the dunes, Robin gave them new orders.

"There's a swordsman with the dragon! He needs help!" He pointed over to the green armoured man, he was handling himself but was being outnumbered. Once again Cordelia and Erron headed to their target, taking one of Cordelia's javelins, Erron stuck a dark mage in the back, then dismounted to help the man on foot.

"Oy you come to fight Gregor?" His accent was foreign and thick, even Erron didn't know where he could come from, he wore simple mercenary armour and had short, spiked brown hair, he appeared older, due to his wrinkled face.

"Alongside, not against." He drew his blade and began to fight with the aged swordsman. Despite his visible age, Gregor was incredibly skilled with his sword, striking down Plegians with little trouble.

"You are impressed yes?" He was flipping his sword in his hand in a carefree manner. To match the older warrior's skill, Erron disarmed and killed three barbarians with ease. Elegantly sheathing his blade, possibly trying to show off.

"I'm pretty good myself." The younger swordsman said, in a nonchalant fashion. Further up the field, Chrom was with Robin, fighting the leader of the Grimleal troops, despite his impressive magic, he was cut down by Chrom with relative ease. On the dark mage's dying breath, he offered his life force to his god, only to die in the sand.

 _ **Aridity…**_  
The Manakete was named Nowi, apparently the Grimleal were trying to sacrifice her. Gregor was a sell-sword who was trying to protect the dragon-girl. Chrom ended up hiring Gregor and tasked him to look after the Manakete girl. Emmeryn was set to be executed the next day, so Robin and Chrom were working furiously to create a plan of action. The cool desert night approached fast, and the Shepherds were resting for the next day's inevitable conflict, Erron sat alone out in the sands, atop a rock with his sword across his lap, sleep eluded him more recently, nightmares of his past haunted him. Sleeping wasn't an option for him, so he reflected and meditated out in the cold, the peace was satisfying. He could hear the sands shift behind him, and he heard stuttered breathing.

"Who goes there?" He didn't move, he remained motionless, waiting for a response.

"…Er-Erron…" The voice was familiar, but sobbing belayed the person's identity.

"Cordelia?" He finally turned, shocked at the sight, Cordelia stood holding her hands with her head bowed, tears visibly pouring from her face.

"Can we…talk?" She sputtered out.

"Of course," He stood and walked closer to the knight, her eyes were red from tears. "What's wrong?" Cordelia then sat on the rock Erron was previously seated at, he sat next to her.

"I'm so…conflicted." She was fighting back her sadness. "I couldn't sleep, because…of the memories…so I decided to walk…" Drying her eyes, Cordelia shakily continued. "I walked past Chrom's tent…and heard Sumia's voice, she was…confessing to him." She once again fought back her tears. "He accepted her feelings…"

"…You aren't happy with this? Why? You and Sumia are close friends, shouldn't you be happy for her?" Erron wasn't one for dealing with affairs of the heart.

"…I've been in love with Chrom ever since I met him…" The realisation hit Erron hard, she had always looked at him strangely in camp, she always pined for his attention, but Chrom never noticed. The two sat in silence for a good minute; Cordelia with tears and Erron with confusion. "I've loved him for years…but he never…cared…"

"…Only now do I see, only now I realise…" Erron looked up to the desert sky. "The 'love' you hold isn't real."

"Wh-what!?" Her tears faded, and anger replaced them. "You wouldn't know a thing about how I feel!" To Cordelia's credit; she was right, Erron really didn't know a thing about…intimate feelings.

"…Maybe so…but let me say my peace." He stared down at the sands. "Love…blossoms on both sides…you're merely gazing at perfection…" Cordelia was quiet, her emotions exploding. "Imperfections…make us human…you 'love' him like a god, not a man." Solemness grew in his voice. "Pain…you'll only know pain if you hold on."

"I-I don't know…" Sadness returned to Cordelia.

"I can't force you to let go of it, but know that if you chase him forever…solitude will be your only companion…" He stood and began to leave. "…As it became mine…" His hand felt warm, and he seized up. Cordelia had grasped it.

"Please…don't go." Erron heard her sobbing. Seconds passed, she waited for a response, anything. "…Please." Erron turned and brought her closely in an embrace, shocking Cordelia.

"Never…not again…" He felt no fear, he could only feel empathy. Cordelia relaxed and weeped into his chest. "…I made a promise…I'll always keep you safe…"

 _ **"**_ _ **Always."**_

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
Phew! Sorry this took a while! College and stuff. Anyways, Cordelia has found comfort I her old friend. Chrom and Sumia are a thing, I'm not actually opposed to this pairing, canon? I dunno, but I like it. Onward to the next chapter, reviews and criticism are welcomed with open arms! **-Muffin**


	16. Chapter 16: Fallen From Grace

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 16 ahoy! We carry on through the Plegian wastes! Cordelia finds solace in her old friend, as the rush to rescue Emmeryn toils upon all the Shepherds. Anyways, enjoy!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text are transitions and brackets are thoughts or whispers.)

 _ **Fate…**_  
The field was set; Emmeryn was stood atop the remains of a giant dragon, waiting for her fate. The Mad King himself, Gangrel, stood proclaiming his vehemence towards the peaceful Exalt, his gold and black armour, befitting a twisted monarch.

"Good people! Warriors of Plegia! Welcome! Welcome one and all! Your anticipation electrifies the air!" His voice reeked of blind insanity, he cackled maniacally as he instructed the execution of Emmeryn. "We ALL remember the crimes of Ylisse…would you have their witch-queen answer for them now? Here? Today? Now?" He looked upon his soldiers with feigned innocence before screeching out. "YEEEEEEEEEEES!" He laughed once more, before pointing up to the Exalt. "Finally we will have JUSTICE!" He slid his hand through his dark red hair before shouting. "EXECUTIONER! If you would be so kind…" A man with a large axe walked behind the queen, preparing to snuff her out.

"Erron!" Robin called from the back of Nowi in her dragon form. Cordelia flew past with Erron sat behind her, a bow in hand. He steadied himself, releasing an arrow with great skill, piercing the axeman's neck, who then stumbled off of the giant skeleton. (…Quick and clean…)

"EVERYONE: NOW!" Under the cover of the sands, the Shepherds mobilised taking charge at their enemies, the sand providing no resistance against their determination. Chrom led the charge shouting his command.

"Take out the soldiers first! We'll deal with the Mad King later!"

"Oh will you now?" Gangrel cackled maniacally once more. "We've been expecting you Little Prince. Men: Kill him. Kill his sister. Kill his troops and his friends and anyone else you find! KILL. THEM. AAAAAALL!" The Plegian forces mobilised themselves, ready to fend off the Ylissean warriors.

"Cordelia, take me down to the rest." Erron spoke as calmly as ever. She looked back and nodded, he picked off a few more Plegians with his bow before dropping off next to the thief, Gaius. "Help the other fliers!" Erron shouted up to his friend, Cordelia flew off to help Sumia, who was taking Chrom to the frontline.

"You with me then, Scars?" The sweet-toothed Gaius had a penchant for giving nicknames to the other Shepherds; Erron's was Scars, given his arms. Gaius was pretty average; he wore a thief's cloak and various pieces of light armour, and a small headband that bound his orange hair.

"I'll weaken them, you finish them." Gaius gave a smirk and nodded, both of them wore light armour, meaning the sands didn't slow them too much. Despite Gaius's vocation as a thief, he wasn't opposed to fighting one on one, and his skill with a sword wasn't too shabby. The two had advanced through the Plegian forces with little difficulty, but they were opposed by a group of dark mages, two men and a woman. Gaius prepared himself but Erron halted him.

"What're you doing Scars?" He looked up at the taller swordsman.

"Wait…" Erron stared at the woman, her raven hair bringing back…weird memories. He sheathed his sword and dropped it to the floor, resting on his foot. "I made a promise Tharja." The female mage readied her tome. Erron merely smirked. "…Now…" He kicked up his weapon and caught it in his left hand, Tharja had blasted one of the mages with her elthunder tome and before the other could react, he was already killed by Erron.

"You know her Scars?" Gaius looked Tharja up and down, smirking mischievously. "Old flame perhaps?"

"Watch your tongue thief, lest I cut it off." Tharja wasn't having any of Gaius's shenanigans.

"Feisty one ain't ya?" The thief enjoyed Tharja's annoyance.

"Flirt when the battle is over Gaius, Tharja is a friend, she wouldn't fight for Gangrel willingly." Erron sheathed his blade and turned to the mage. "Will you help us?"

"I've always been the…rebellious type, consider me your ally." Gaius wolf whistled and Erron sighed. The three continued through the sands till they reached the deserted courtyard, where a lone general stood.

"I am Campari! You'll never save your precious Exalt, scum!"

 _ **Sacrifice…**_  
Chrom and Robin rushed for the general, his armour was thick but Robin's magic immobilised Campari long enough for Chrom to strike at his armour's weak points. As the general fell, Chrom called out an order.

"Robin! Their wyvern riders have fallen! The skies are clear! I'm giving the signal." He raised Falchion high and whistled loudly. Commander Phila and two other Pegasus knights flew in to retrieve Emmeryn.

"Your grace!" Phila shouted out to the Exalt.

"Phila! I'm so glad your safe! But how-"

"Khan Basilio's men freed me. Come, we must hurry!" Gangrel was absolutely livid.

"That damned Ylissean tactician does NOT play fair!" Next to Gangrel, strolled up a tall woman with silver hair and dark skin. She cackled before prepping a tome.

"Yes, well." It glowed a dark hue. "Neither do I." All around the Pegasus knights appeared the undead creatures, the Risen, all of them archers. The reanimated archers rained arrows upon Phila and her troops. They fell one by one, with Gangrel laughing like a hyena. The Shepherds were left devastated, Robin's plan had fallen to shambles. Gangrel finished laughing and gazed down upon a broken Chrom.

"I will count to three! Throw down your weapons, or your Exalt becomes the world's largest quiver." He raised his arm into the air. "One!" His fingers counting as well. "Two!" Chrom cursed. "Thr-"

"Gangrel, hold!" Chrom sighed with defeatism. "…You win. Everyone, lay down yo-"

"No wait!"Emmeryn pleaded.

"SILENCE!" Gangrel wanted something to be dead.

"King Gangrel, is there no hope you will listen to reason?" Emmeryn was solemn with her tone.

"You mean listen to more sanctimonious babble?! I think not. No, all I want to hear is the THUNK of arrows, and a SPLAT as you hit the ground." Gangrel was monologuing with violence. "Take one, long, last look from your perch. You do so enjoy looking down on people…Then prepare to meet the ground and your maker! That is if someone were to give me the Fire Emblem…NOW!"

"ALL RIGHT!" Chrom was truly at a loss. "All right…Emm, I know you won't approve, but this is my final decision. MAYBE someday we'll face a crisis where MAYBE the Emblem would've helped…but I know for a fact that Ylisse needs you, today!"

"Chrom…" She steeled herself. "Th-thank you. I know now what I must do…"

 _"_ _Plegians! I ask that you hear the truth of my words! War will win you nothing but sadness and pain, both inside your borders and out. Free yourselves from this hatred! From this cycle of pain and vengeance. Do what you must…as I will do. See now that one selfless act has the power to change the world!"_

She stood silently, waiting for a response, nothing. With a deep breath she clasped her hands. And walked. Like an angel from grace, she fell.

 _ **Destiny...**_  
"Emm…" Chrom kneeled, at his sister's corpse. The Shepherds were left speechless, the faithful Ylisseans were horrified and the Plegians stood shocked. Gangrel was howling like the jackal he was. "GANGREL! YOU DIE TODAY!"

"No, boy! I secured an escape route! We have to flee!" Basilio and Flavia were pulling a broken Chrom away from Emmeryn's body.

"B-but…her body…I have to…" His words held no emotion.

"You have to RUN! NOW GO!" The Shepherds fled the desert, following Basilio, no one spoke, they merely sobbed or stayed silent. An hour had passed as they reached the Midmire, a swampy terrain, on the border into Ferox.

 _ **Rain…**_  
The sky itself was shedding tears, as the Shepherds rushed through the barren wastes.

"Hurry! There should be carriages waiting just through the ravine!" Basilio was leading the escape, he had gotten an inside man to get the Shepherds out of Plegia, disguised as a minstrel caravan. Chrom was silent, trying to process all that had occurred.

"Chrom, please!" Robin was urging him to keep going. Chrom growled in anger.

"I'm…I'm coming." He was holding his head with his hand, he looked shattered. Plegian soldiers approached, weapons raised.

"Damn, I knew it couldn't be that easy…ready your weapons, we fight!" Basilio drew his axe and found a familiar figure next to him, blade in hand. "Boy-"

"Reunions later, Basilio!" Erron shouted. The Feroxi blooded warriors charged through the Plegian ranks, Basilio seeing Farah's shadow beside Erron as he fought. The rest of the Shepherds finally broke their sorrows, filled with anger, they stormed the Plegian forces. Robin was still trying to snap Chrom out of his anguish, till a voice rung through the valley.

"Ylisseans! I offer you mercy!" A tall axe wielding man stood, Mustafa, the border guard Erron had known prior. "Surrender to me now and live!"

"Surrender?" Basilio always had room for dry sarcasm, even on the battlefield. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with the word."

"Emmeryn would not have wished for this to come to bloodshed." Mustafa's words, finally snapped Chrom.

"Don't…" Rage filled him, he drew Falchion. "SPEAK HER NAME!" A new founded drive, spurred Chrom up the field. Mustafa tried to reason with the furious prince, all to no avail, wis words fell upon deaf ears. Chrom was facing his foes alone, his anger fuelling his sword.

"He's going to get himself killed!" Basilio saw the prince, remarking at his blind anger.

"The fool!" Erron hurried off, his speed allowing him to catch up to Chrom easily. Blinded by rage Chrom swung for Erron but got blocked. "Focus, Chrom. I am not your enemy." Chrom grit his teeth, and turned to the Plegian commander.

"I am General Mustafa of Plegia." He drew an ornate red axe. "If you wish to keep your lives, then you must win them!"

"…Mustafa, I am sorry…" Erron didn't want to raise his blade to his helper.

"Aye lad, as am I." He spoke sadly. "War does this to people…but Gangrel will murder my family if I do not fight."

"…I can empathise…" Erron pointed his blade's tip at the general.

"Then grant me peace lad! I've fought long enough." Mustafa was too old to still be a general. he had lost his hair and had a thick, grey beard.

"I can give you no more than that, general." Erron turned to Chrom. "I understand your rage." He walked forward. "But this is my fight." The Plegian forces and Shepherds halted their fighting to watch the duel.

"Make this memorable lad!"

"Draw!" The two clashed, axe meeting sword, despite Mustafa's bulk, he was fast enough to dodge and parry Erron's strikes, but there was a definite handicap, Mustafa's age let him down; Erron could even hear him wheeze with each swing. The struggle lasted for a good few minutes, Mustafa swung vertically but was parried. (Forgive me…) Erron's sword was plunged through the general's chest. "…I-I apologise…"

"Well done, Ylisseans…" He was coughing his last breaths. "Please…spare my men…"

"May you find solace in death…that you could not find in life. Mustafa." He drew his sword from the berserker, sheathing it silently. "Chrom…please, let the men go free."

"What? you saw what they did! To…Emm…" Chrom was enraged and confused.

"It was Mustafa's dying wish, let them go." Chrom was growling. "You know that she wouldn't have wanted this."

"I…I know," Chrom turned to the barren landscape. "Shepherds! Let the Plegians go! That's…an order." The Ylisseans begrudgingly lowered their weapons and told the soldiers to flee. Basilio approached Chrom and Erron.

"You knew him?" He spoke to the raven haired swordsman.

"He helped me cross the border into Ylisse, when I was in Plegia…just as the war started." He knelt by the general's body. "He was a pacifist…he truly hated fighting…"

"More the reason to kill the bastard Gangrel, and be done with this war." Erron nodded and Chrom was still shaken. "Where's our way out…" Basilio wondered aloud, when a cloaked figure approached with a lantern in her hand, multiple carriages were following.

"Khan Basilio!" The woman lowered her hood, she had long pink hair, tied into a ponytail, it was Basilio's dancer, Olivia.

"Olivia! Sorry we kept you waiting." Basilio spoke up, as Erron hid his face. "Chrom? Robin? Meet Olivia. She'll be smuggling us out of here."

"Only if you hurry! The Mad King is bound to send more soldiers!" She was looking around frantically.

"Right!" Basilio shouted at the Shepherds who had regrouped at the carriages. "Pile in, you lot!" The Shepherds did as such and got into the carriages. Most people just piled in, but Robin, Frederick, Lissa and Sumia stayed with Chrom, whilst Basilio dragged Erron into his carriage, which sat the two of them, Olivia and Khan Flavia.

 _ **Silence…**_  
Erron was sat motionless, his hood up and his sword in his hand, his mind was ablaze. (What use is this fighting? Peace…is a joke…there will only be more strife…) He heard a voice in his ear, it was soft and timid.

"Ar-are you okay?" Olivia hadn't seen Erron in years, the last she'd seen him was when he left Ferox after fighting with Basilio. Erron looked to his side, Olivia was as bashful as usual, twiddling her fingers.

"…Yeah…" He sighed deeply, tightening his grip on his sword.

"You did what was necessary boy." Basilio spoke up.

"This is pointless…" Erron's eyes glazed over. "All of it, Mustafa died for a cause he didn't believe in…and the Exalt died because of blind vengeance." His calm exterior broken, he slammed his hand on the carriage wall. "And now we fight Plegia for vengeance too? Idiocy." He calmed. "Violence…breeds violence."

"We'll have peace when Gangrel is dead." Flavia was sharpening her sword.

"Peace? No. Peace is a fantasy, there will always be hatred and violence, it is pointless to strive for peace."

"Just calm down, boy." Basilio said.

"You know it to be true Basilio, as did my father." He glared at the Khan.

"And you know that he didn't want you to be like this!" Basilio fired back.

"And look what happened? I've carved my own path through life, and it is laden with bodies, yet I am labelled as a hero…I'm merely another killer, who believes he fights for a just cause." He looked down at his sword. "…I'm no better than the Mad King…" Olivia shouted in annoyance.

"No!" She was blushing madly, now that all eyes were on her. "You're not like that! I know you're not!"

"Why do you still find hope in me!" Erron was snapping. "I've ended families! For what? A pursuit of strength? Honour? Revenge? I don't even know anymore! All I know is that my home now is on the battlefield, be it among the soldiers, or the corpses." His eyes contained the same rage that Basilio saw back in Ferox. His outburst had silenced the other Feroxians, and they continued to ride in silence till they reached Regna Ferox.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
[INTERNAL CONFLICT INTENSIFIES] Anyone who's played the game knows how emotional this part of the game is, I hope I managed to capture the same feeling. Sorry for being late, I hit a bit of writer's block. Reviews and criticism are always welcome! Thanks for reading! **-Muffin**


	17. Chapter 17: Guardian

_**Foreword**_  
Office dun goofed, and I lost all my work. EVERY CHAPTER. So this got delayed to all hell, I'm very sorry, but alas here is chapter 17!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is for scene transitions and brackets are for thoughts and whispers.)

 _ **Sorrows…**_  
The Shepherds stood in the main bastion of the Longfort, despairing the loss of their Exalt; some mourned quietly, hiding their sadness, whilst some openly weeped. Erron was stood away from the others, he didn't really know much about Emmeryn, but he could understand their pain. He kept quiet, but looked over the others, mainly Cordelia, who had also lost her commanding officer Phila, this war had put her down the same path as Erron's; the loss of all she had close to her, her fellow knights at the border, and now her commander, Erron only hoped that she wouldn't end up driven by vengeance.

"…You alright?" He had walked over to her. She looked up at the swordsman, nodded shakily and dried her eyes.

"Ye-yeah…" Her voice wavered. "…I'll be fine…" Erron was ignoring the others whilst consoling his friend, until Chrom's raised voice got his attention.

"And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals?" He then sighed deeply. "Robin, what if I drag you down with me?"

"If you aren't worthy, you'll keep at it until you are. And if we both fall down, well, that's what friends are for, isn't it?" The tactician put his hand on the prince's shoulder. Then a small voice spoke up.

"That's right. I wouldn't be even here if not for you." The Manakete, Nowi. The rest of the Shepherds rallied alongside her.

"You gave me your trust and now you have mine." Tharja.

"It took great courage and charisma to unite all of us...I knew I possessed such talents, but clearly you do as well!" Virion.

"Yeah! We all look up to you! You're like a hero to us." Ricken.

"Thank you, everyone. Your words mean more than you could know. My Shepherds...My warriors...There is work to be done. Gangrel must be stopped so that peace can once again reign in Ylisse. Will you help me?" Chrom's resolve was restored.

"You can count me in!" Lissa. "I'm tired of crying all the time! It's time to start punchin' stuff!" Hard to believe that she's royalty.

"Hear, hear, darling! Our people have suffered enough." Maribelle.

"Gladly would I fight and die for house Ylisse!" Stahl.

"Gladly would I fight and kill those bastards for House Ylisse!" Sully.

"Our hearts echo yours, sire." Libra.

"I will be the unbreakable shield by your side!" Sumia headed over to Chrom and took his hand. Erron thought he heard another voice, but it was too quiet.

"Teach is here and class is in session!" Vaike.

"Money is no motivation for this fight!" Gregor.

"Your sister earned my respect. The last taguel shall champion her." Panne.

"You have grown strong milord. I swear I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled!" Frederick.

"…That day…" Erron finally spoke out. "Your sword spoke of your true convictions." Chrom turned to the swordsman. "I do not think I can be a part of your peace…" He then drew his sword and raised it up high. "But I will fight and die in order to achieve it!" The Shepherds roared in unison, raising their own weapons and cheering.

"…Thank you all. Truly. You honour me with your fealty. I will not falter again. We shall answer for this outrage." Chrom raised his own sword. "The Mad King must be stopped!" Another roar of determination rose from the Shepherds.

"I'd like to go too, if I may." A timid voice said. "The exalt did me a kindness once." It was Olivia.

"She did?" Said Chrom.

"Y-yes sire. It would honour me to have a part in giving her justice!" Now noticing that everyone was staring at her, she blushed and ran off.

"Enough talking!" Basilio shouted. "It's time to raise some hell!"

"Right." Chrom faced his soldiers. "We march to Plegia! For Ylisse!"

"FOR YLISSE!" Bellowed all the troops.

 _ **War-bound…**_  
The plan was that Basilio and Flavia would lead the whole Feroxi army against the Plegian soldiers, whilst having the Shepherds go after Gangrel himself. The march would take a few days with a whole army, so the Shepherds trained intensely for the conflict ahead of them. Most of them had gathered the finest equipment they could from Ferox; Chrom wore specially forged armour bearing the Ylissean crest, even wearing the Fire Emblem itself as a shield. Sumia and Cordelia honoured their fallen commander by donning falcoknight armour, Ricken and Miriel adorned sage robes, Donnel had found some simple mercenary armour whilst Gregor, who had been mentoring Donny, wore sword-hero plate, Stahl and Sully both took the title of paladin, to replicate the Bull and Panther of old. After the first morning of marching the soldiers had set up camp in a less tundral area of Ferox. Erron was somewhat away from the campsite, he had found a river and was fishing by himself. The tranquility was refreshing, especially after what had transpired over the last few days, but as always; he found himself being interrupted by someone.

"Yes, who is it?" He said as a biting fish managed to escape him, he then growled with annoyance.

"It's Robin." The tactician said scratching his head. "Uh, sorry about the fish."

"No matter, what do you want?" He didn't tear his gaze from the river.

"Could you help me with some sword practice?" He said showing two practice blades he had brought.

"You're learning from Frederick aren't you? You don't need my tutelage. Besides, I am not a master." The nomad said dryly.

"You could've fooled me! No one I've seen handles a sword like you can. Not even Frederick, which is why I want to learn from you!" Robin appeared to be quite earnest in his pursuit.

"We have a week till we reach Plegia." He lost another bite. "It took me five YEARS to learn basic forms and the rest of my life to perfect them."

"Hey, I have aptitude! I can handle it." Erron was annoyed at Robin's overconfidence, but dismissed it as simple naïveté.

"I do not doubt that, we just do not have the time." He stood and reeled in his fishing rod.

"Couldn't you give me a crash course?" Robin said inquisitively whilst Erron sighed deeply.

"Fine." He scratched his head. "But prepare yourself," He said whilst tying up the fish he had caught. "For the most agonising few days in your life. We shall start tomorrow."

"That sounds…worrying." Said the innocent tactician.

"Oh it is." Erron deadpanned as the two walked back to camp.

 _ **Noon…**_  
As midday had arrived, the Shepherds were sparring with one another; Frederick specifically told them to find partners they wouldn't usually spar with, for diversity's sake. Which had Erron practicing against Vaike.

"Alrighty, time for Teach to show-" Vaike's pre-spar speech was cut off by her opponent.

"Save me the exposition, fool." Erron's plan had succeeded; Vaike was pretty ticked off.

"I'll get ya for that!" Vaike charged with a practice axe, but was parried, disarmed and left on the floor in a few split seconds. "What? How did that happen?"

"You let your emotions get the better of you." Erron said rolling the wooden blade around in his hand. "Anger clouds your mind and compassion makes you hesitate." He readied his stance once more. "Try again. But empty your thoughts."

"…Fine!" He stood up and took a deep breath. "Okay!" He charged once more but didn't allow himself to be parried, focusing on Erron's movements, Vaike lasted a good minute against him rather than a few seconds.

"See?" He said simply.

"Looks like Teach got taught!" The axe-wielder laughed off his loss.

"The perfect fighter remains detached from emotions on the battlefield." Erron rolled his sword around again.

"Well, not everyone can do that ya know." Vaike said scratching his head. "Some of the guys and gals feel horrible for killing like they have."

"You aren't human if you discard your regrets." He spoke sagely. "Which is why no human can truly be a perfect fighter."

"For a guy as quiet as you, you know your stuff, huh?" Vaike questioned.

"I've merely had a lot of time to think about such matters." The swordsman said flatly. "I…misjudged you Vaike."

"Hah! I get that all the time!" The large man laughed once more.

"So carefree…I envy you." Erron said solemnly.

"Hey, it'd be boring if everyone was as happy as Nowi, or as gloomy as Tharja. Some of us just see you as…unapproachable, that's all." Vaike said not trying to offend.

"Unapproachable…yeah, that's a good word for me." He said crossing his arms.

"Hey, you can take some heat at least." Vaike chuckled

"…Thanks…" He smirked. "Lunch is soon. Who's on duty?"

"I heard Cordelia was up today." Vaike put a hand to his chin. "Haven't had her cooking before…"

"It's good." Erron said fast.

"How do you know?" Vaike said dumbfounded.

"Never change, Vaike." He smirked and headed to the mess tent, leaving Vaike stupefied.

 _ **Tensions…**_  
Once again, Erron sat away from the other Shepherds whilst eating his food, it was a stew made from the game that had been hunted by Panne. It was the best cooking he had ate since leaving Rosanne. His meal was interrupted by an argument taking place on the other side of the tent.

"But my lady Cordelia, I am merely commending you on your genius as a chef." (Virion, what have you got yourself into.) Erron could see Cordelia was visibly distressed at the word 'genius'.

"Do not call me that!" Her anger evident in her tone.

"Such a beauteous face does not deserve such scorn-" A harsh voice cut off the noble.

"Leave her, Virion." Erron was stood closer, his own voice coated with anger. "I won't ask again."

"I never meant any offence!" Virion was waving his arms defensively. "It was a complime-" He was cut off more violently than before, finding a hand grabbing him by his collar.

"Leave her be." Erron was in Virion's face gripping his shirt fiercely, his words passed through his grit teeth with malice.

"Y-yes, of course!" Virion's voice was trembling slightly, the others in the tent were shocked by Erron's outburst, no one had ever seen him visibly enraged.

"Good." The swordsman pushed away the startled noble who was smoothing his shirt.

"Hey, that's a bit much isn't it?" Stahl said innocently, wordlessly Erron shot him a spiteful glare, his sharp eyes saying everything, the cavalier gulped and didn't speak. Sufficiently irritated by Virion's antics, Erron left the tent not saying anything else to the Shepherds. He found himself sat on a log by the remains of a campfire, inspecting his sword, until someone's voice got his attention.

"What was that about in the mess tent?" It was Chrom, his voice stern.

"Hmph." He ignored the prince continuing to tighten the wraps on the swords handle.

"We all get a little tired of Virion, but was violence necessary?" Chrom scratched his head.

"…Hmph…" He didn't want to talk to his commander, he wanted to calm down himself.

"I heard he was complimenting Cordelia, I don't think you needed to throttle the guy." This aggravated the swordsman.

"Do not talk about her." He said venomously.

"I understand you two were childhood friends, but she can handle herself I think." That pushed Erron over the line.

"Do not speak like you know her!" He said glaring at the prince.

"Why does any mention of her make you agitated?" Erron stood and walked over to Chrom, looking down at him.

"You broke her heart, I will never forgive you for that." His tone was spiteful.

"Broke her heart? Wha-" The oblivious prince was silenced.

"She loved you for years. When she found that you and Sumia were in love, it broke her." He spoke solemnly, yet his anger was evident.

"I won't apologise for falling in love." Chrom said angrily.

"And I'm not asking you to." His voice grew deeper and he began to snarl. "But if you ever make Sumia feel the same pain as Cordelia." He grit his teeth and spoke with fury. "I will hunt you down and slaughter you without a second thought." He then walked off back to his tent, leaving the prince bewildered.

 _ **Meditation…**_  
After the march, night fell quickly. Erron decided to retire to his tent early, so he could try to forget the day's annoyances. He took an oil lamp and set it in front of him, he sat cross legged and stared into the flame, focusing on the still embers. It seemed like hours had passed, as he could hear the crickets, chirping dully. He began to grow tired so he removed his outer robes and took out his hair tie, letting his hair flow freely. (It may need cutting soon…) He shrugged the thought off and prepared for sleep, till a voice called to him from outside his tent.

"…Hey, Erron…" He recognised the voice but was too tired to place someone to it, so he rolled the flap up on his tent, to see who it was.

"Cordelia?" He rubbed his eyes, she was in her usual knight attire, minus the breastplate. The look on her face was not anger but…discontent.

"We need to talk." Her tone was serious.

"Sure, come in I guess." He let the Pegasus rider in and let the flap on his tent down. "So, what's wron-"

"Why are you so hellbent on protecting me?" She cut off the nomad, crossing her arms. "I just don't like being called a genius, you didn't need to grab him!"

"You were upset, I intervened." He said flatly looking at his childhood friend.

"But why? Each time, anything happens to me, you have to step in." Now she sounded angry. "Sumia even told me that you threatened to kill Chrom!"

"I don't want you getting hurt…that's all." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"But why!?" Her raised voice finally got Erron to speak.

"Because you remind me too much of…her…" He solemnly spoke.

"Who?" Cordelia said heatedly. Erron remained silent. "Who?" This time she said with genuine curiosity.

"My...my sister…" His sorrowful tone brought shock to Cordelia's face. "Sol'era…you remind me too much of her, which is why I have to keep you safe." Cordelia's eyes widened, she knew that he lost his family, but she didn't think that would be the reason at all. "She was so kind to me, she protected me, she was a bit of a perfectionist as well." Cordelia blushed. "But in the end…she sacrificed herself to save my life."

"So that's the reason…" She walked closer, looking up at the tall swordsman. "I'm sorry…I didn't think…"

"Do not apologise…" He smiled sadly. "When you cared for me, I grew to think of you as the sister that was taken from me. I couldn't let you be taken as well." He crossed his arms and shook his head.

"…Erron…I'm so sorry…" She placed her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He froze up, the tent was dark, only lit by the lamp, so his phobia acted up. "And…thank you. For being here." As the words left her mouth softly, Erron felt his panic fading, he relaxed and put his own arms around Cordelia.

"Cordelia…" (Sol, I couldn't protect you…but I will protect her.) "I'm sorry, I won't change. I have to keep you safe. For your wellbeing, and my own."

"Well…okay, but don't go beating people up!" She feigned annoyance.

"Of course." He chuckled. "You should go, it's late, get some sleep." He let go of his friend and lightly pulled her away.

"See you tomorrow!" Cordelia smiled, her sadness gone, she left the tent and headed back to her own, leaving Erron to think.

"Goodbye…" He muttered under his breath, pulling himself into his bedroll. "…Sol…"

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
The reasons behind Erron's vehement protection of the scarlet knight is revealed! Sibling imprintation, he just can't let go of the past…Anyways, thank you all for stopping by! Sorry for the incredible lateness, but good news! I got a holiday! So I'll have time to carry on with this, hopefully with consistency. Reviews and criticism, as always, is welcomed! **-Muffin**


	18. Chapter 18: Burdens of War

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 18! Carrying on the road to Plegia, our merry band of misfit soldiers do more stupid things. I hope you enjoy!

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is for scene transitions and brackets are for thoughts and whispers.)

 _ **Mastery…**_  
"Ready?" Erron and Robin were out in the practice yard, Erron made good on his word and began Robin's 'crash course' in swordsmanship the previous day, Robin flagged underneath the physical strain, but his perseverance was impressive.

"Bring it on!" Erron internally smirked at the tacticians enthusiasm, he was going to be broken.

"Today's lesson: Do a squat and hold it." Robin audibly laughed and held a lazy squat. "Properly." Erron growled. "Wide leg stance," Robin then shifted, but was struck on his back by the wooden cane.

"Ow! Why?"

"Why who?"

"Why, master!?" Robin cried out.

"Your form is sloppy! Straighter back, use your legs to hold you up." Robin groaned and followed his orders. "And hold it for fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen?!" Robin cried out once more.

"What was rule two?" He hit the cane on the ground.

"Don't question your methods…master." Robin sighed.

"This was my first year, you must become unbreakable; in body and mind. You'll learn to shrug off pain and face death with no fear." Erron barked, the two stood for the allotted fifteen minutes whilst Robin's legs were shaking furiously. "Done." Robin fell to the ground rubbing his tortured legs. "Now, take this blade." He held up a practice sword, but was stood a few paces away. Robin walked over but his legs gave way after the first step. "The expected result…"

"This isn't training! This is torture!" Robin howled in pain. Erron didn't reply, Robin then begrudgingly growled out. "...Master."

"You said you had the aptitude to do this, are you doubting yourself?" The swordsman questioned.

"A little…" Robin muttered.

"Then leave. Self-doubt will get you killed." He crossed his arms. "I will not train you if you haven't the mettle."

"I can keep going!" Robin said defiantly.

"Then this is your final lesson. You face a warrior, he is the last of his army, he holds no information of value, and he pleads mercy…how do you respond?" He glared at the tactician.

"I'd let him go." As he said this, Erron sighed.

"Then my training is wasted on you. I am sorry, but I cannot teach you further, your compassion conflicts with my tutelage." He walked by Robin, heading back to camp.

"Soooo, no more training?" Robin dragged himself to his feet, rubbing his sore legs.

"Spar with me whenever you want, but I am not your teacher." The two headed back to camp.

 _ **Shade…**_  
As the Shepherds got closer to Plegian territory, the weather got hotter and hotter, aggravating Erron. He was sat under a tree reading his sword form book, he had kept it since his childhood, and re-read it when he was bored, even thought he had read it at least thirty times front to back. He had reached a page on greatsword combat till he could feel a somewhat eerie presence looming around him.

"Tharja? What do you want?" True as he thought, the dark mage was slinking around, looking for something to curse most likely.

"I need your help for a curse, nothing harmful…I promise." She said slyly, as she looked down at the swordsman, who hadn't stopped reading.

"Remember the last time you tried? My will is stronger than yours, it will not work." He flicked through another page.

"Yes, but if you WILLINGLY let me do it, then it'll work." Tharja kneeled to the same level as Erron, who still hadn't looked at her.

"…Fine, what's the curse?" He sighed, finally closing his book and looking at the Plegian, whom he now noticed was a bit too close for his liking.

"Forced amnesia." She said flatly. Erron sighed once more.

"This is about Robin isn't it?" Tharja blushed and looked down.

"No, not at all." She huffed.

"I'll help." He said closing his book. "Just know that even you might fear what you see within."

"The priest said the same thing…" Tharja giggled menacingly.

"You've been trying this on Libra? A priest?" His eyes widened. "That's…not…"

"He wasn't opposed, anyways, you'll be more of a challenge." Tharja stood and walked off. "I'll find you at midnight." (Great, another late night.) Erron nodded tiredly. "Also, I heard you're on lunch duty with the dancer." He exhaled deeply, forming the longest sigh he had ever sighed. He then got up and headed for the mess tent.

 _ **Melody…**_  
Erron walked into the makeshift kitchen, greeted by the smell of cooking meat. He laid his sword down and headed for the pink haired dancer, who was humming to herself as she prepared the food.

"Must you be musical with everything?" He said scratching his head, his voice causing Olivia to jump with shock.

"Waagh!" She turned and blushed heavily. "You could've said 'hi' rather than sneaking around!"

"You probably would have reacted the same way." He sighed. "I'm on duty as well, what do you need me to do?" He took off his bracers and rolled up his sleeves.

"Um, I'm not sure." She twiddled her thumbs.

"You know more about cooking than me." He deadpanned.

"Uh, I could make some liver stew, do you think they'll like Feroxi cooking?" She looked over the ingredients, nervously.

"I don't think they'll care." Erron said, re-tying his hair so it wouldn't get in the way, Olivia turned to him and halted. "…What?" He said, questioning Olivia's actions.

"You just, don't…um show all of your face, usually…" She said looking down, but keeping an eye on the swordsman; mainly his crimson red eyes. "…Your hair blocks it."

"…Does it matter?" His dry tone closing down Olivia's statement. The two began to work on the stew, Olivia humming all the way as she did, only annoying Erron. "Must you do that?"

"Hey, you whistle a lot! Don't scold me for humming!" Olivia's frankness baffled Erron, she had always been as meek as a mouse for as long as he had known her.

"…I do?" Did he? In hindsight, most of the times Erron had been meditating, he would whistle to himself. "Fair point."

"Fine." Olivia huffed and carried on, minus the humming. Erron sighed as he could see that she was upset.

"Sing if you want, just don't hum." He finally said.

"Why is my singing ok?" She questioned honestly.

"…You have a nice voice." He said quietly, but loud enough for Olivia to hear. With which, she blushed hard.

"Well ok, but you sing with me!" She said cheerily, stopping Erron dead in his tracks.

"No."

"Come oooon."

"No."

"You can choose the song!"

"No."

"Pleeeeaaaaase." She dragged out the word. Erron sighed deeply, then growled out.

"Fine." He said shaking his head.

"Yay! But you choose the song!" She spoke happily. "I'm not sure you know the ones I know." Erron thought for a while, he didn't sing, or particularly go out of his way to remember songs. Until a war-march that Basilio taught him came to mind.

"Okay I have one." He breathed deeply before beginning the first verse. His naturally deep voice complementing the war-song.

 _"_ _High on high I stand,_  
 _Gazing down, to see;_  
 _The endless garden,_  
 _Awaiting me!"_

Olivia was stunned at his surprising voice control.

 _"_ _Red bloometh the rose of conviction,_  
 _And red bloometh the rose of hate,_  
 _Yes red bloometh the rose of conquest._  
 _Only blood shall sate!"_

 _"_ _And the war, it wageth on._  
 _The storm, it rageth on._  
 _The bold, ever fight on._  
 _Their lives, echoed in song!"_

He inhaled deeply again, to begin once more.

 _"_ _All, like snow, they fall,_  
 _Petals plucked and strewn,_  
 _Yet from their seeds grow;_  
 _This war anew!"_

 _"_ _Blood trickling down from my fullers._  
 _And blood trickling down from my hands._  
 _Yes blood trickling down the battlefield!_  
 _Until I alone stand!"_

 _"_ _And the war, still wageth on!_  
 _The storm, still rageth on!_  
 _The bold, blindly march on!_  
 _Their lives, lost in a song!"_

As he finished he turned to Olivia who's facial expression was one of shock and almost fear.

"That song…it was…graphic." She said nervously.

"It's the story of the first Khan Regnant of Ferox." Erron said whilst cutting the liver for the stew.

"A bloodthirsty warmonger!?" She said horrified.

"Not at first…During the Schism; a great warrior clad in black iron armour took soldiers from across the world, and with great force, conquered the northern part of Ylisse's continent." Olivia was highly interested in this tale, mainly due to it being a song. "That land became Ferox. Ferox actually means wild, or it can be interpreted as iron; after the Great Iron Khan. So Regna Ferox can mean Wild Kingdom or Kingdom of Iron. The song depicts him watching over the warring lands, as his army conquers the weak, sating their thirst for blood and combat, with his great warriors being immortalised in the song." Erron remembered Basilio telling him this story, and how his family was linked to it. "The second part is more dark. Detailing how even after the war is done, the seeds revive the fighting in an endless cycle. So the Khan sought to end all fighting, by slaying all that would oppose him creating a world under one ruler, a falsified peace. Hence the lyrics; 'Until I alone stand.' With the end of the song proclaiming that war is endless and the soldiers who fought and were told of in song; ended up being lost in the sounds of bloodshed."

"That's…sad in a way." Olivia said softly.

"The saddest part is the truth it holds; war is eternal, peace is a fallacy, and those who give their lives for a wasted cause, are lost to time." He spoke solemnly.

"Do you think we'll have peace after this war?" She said hopefully. A few seconds passed before Erron spoke.

"I…cannot say. I want it to end as much as anyone…but a part of me thinks it's all a lie." He said finishing the preparations.

"What will you do when it's over?" This was the question he wanted to avoid, he didn't know, what could he do?

"…I'm not sure…" The two piled the ingredients into a cauldron, and waited for it to cook.

"I'm sure you'll find out." She smiled kindly.

"I hope so." He said closing his eyes and crossing his arms.

 _ **Arcane…**_  
Lunch went surprisingly well, with Gregor enjoying the stew the most out of all the Shepherds; Erron gave credit to Olivia, in hope she'd get used to the praise. It didn't work, she only got flustered by all the compliments and ran off. The rest of the day was uneventful; they continued the march and trained in the evening. Soon night had fell and true to her word, Tharja found Erron to experiment with her curses and hexes.

"Okay, think of a memory that won't affect your combat skills." She said absentmindedly, tossing an assortment of estranged objects into a palette.

"You're nonchalance troubles me." The swordsman said with his arms crossed, witnessing the collection of items; some kind of insect husk, ashes of something and even animal teeth. "Why are you making this curse?" Before Tharja could speak Erron continued. "And don't lie."

"You were right…it is for Robin…" The swordsman sighed and scratched his head. "But not how you think!" She blurted out, blushing slightly. "It's…I just think it must be horrible to have no memory of your life…" Erron's eyes widened, he hadn't seen this…caring side of the mage. "…It's not a forced amnesia curse…"

"It's memory replacement." Tharja snapped her head around.

"How did you-" She was cut off.

"I asked Libra." He deadpanned. "I wouldn't go into one of your experiments blind. No offence."

"None taken," She quickly said. "But…I can't imagine how it'd be like, not knowing your earliest memories, he doesn't even remember his parents."

"So you'd give Robin memories of a good life." He said crossing his arms, Tharja nodded. "You're kinder than you show, Tharja."

"Don't tell anyone. I have an image to uphold." She said seriously.

"Of course, anyways let's get this over with." Erron said, thinking of a memory.

"For curiosity's sake, what memory is it?" She picked up a tome and started to activate the curse.

"The time I sucked venom from your neck." He said bluntly. "Trust me, touch is bad enough, but that memory always makes me feel strange around you."

"Was it unpleasant?" She said offhandedly, as the cursing items began to glow an ominous purple.

"Yes, hellishly so." He visualised the scene in his mind, which made him uncomfortable.

"Okay, stand still." She closed her eyes and extended her hand, with her palm open next to Erron's face. Magic glyphs circled her arm as the curse began to take effect. A few moments later, the glyphs began to shake as Tharja's face contorted. "…Done." She said opening her eyes. "Is the memory gone?" Erron's face went pale.

"No." He clutched his stomach. "I think it's more…engrained now." Resisting the urge to throw up, he breathed heavily.

"Damn, I can't get this to work." She looked over the items once more, as Erron walked a few paces away before emptying his stomach. "You okay?" Tharja said nonchalantly.

"…Perfect…" Colour returned to his face as he pushed the memory out of his immediate thoughts.

"Thank you for your assistance; it appears I need to work on this some more…" She picked up her tome.

"Not with me you're not, goodnight." He walked off shakily, as Tharja smirked. He walked back to his tent and prepared for sleep, soon the Shepherds would reach Plegia, where Gangrel and his army would await.

 _ **Closing Comments…**_  
I think I should apologise for this, I didn't get it out on time and it's a bit...filler like. The war song may hold relevance though, I'm not sure. I just wrote this out when I was bored, so I'll endeavour to not half-arse the next chapter. Thanks for reading! **-Muffin**


	19. Chapter 19: Revenge and Reprieve

_**Foreword**_  
Chapter 19! FINALLY! The battle against Gangrel is here! I hope you enjoy! ONWARD TO GLORY! (Also, due to this chapter, the rating is bumping up to M.)

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is for scene transitions and brackets are for thoughts and whispers.)

 _ **Finale…**_  
The Shepherds had awoken early to march upon the Plegian border; Flavia and Basilio commanded the entirety of the Feroxi army in an attack against the main Plegian forces, whilst Chrom took his shepherds and a small group of soldiers to attack Gangrel's own outpost.

"Right side; I see armour by those keeps, most likely infantry." Erron overlooked the battlefield, using his sight to pick out anything notable. "Left side; bright red robes, mages are hidden in the vegetation."

"Anything else?" Robin was stood by him, ready to formulate a plan from the reconnaissance.

"Wait…" He focused at the large keep down the centre of the field. "Gangrel's there himself…Either he lives up to his title or he's got a plan."

"Those forts probably have reinforcements inside." Robin said with his hand on his chin.

"Most likely; what's the plan? If those forts have archers, our fliers will be pincushioned." He turned to the tactician.

"Okay, I've got something, go join the others." Erron nodded and walked over to the other troops, all of them with a tale to tell on their faces; some looked nervous, while most had determination. After a few minutes Robin joined up to explain his strategy.

"Our fastest land troops will take to the forts and thickets; to deal with any possible anti-air soldiers, then they'll converge centrically and help our fliers carry our strongest infantry to the front. Understood?" They all nodded. "Alright…this is it! FOR YLISSE!"

"FOR YLISSE!" The warriors shouted.

"Robin, organise the pairs!" Chrom shouted as he joined Sumia on her Pegasus. Robin had constructed new pairs for the final conflict; Robin himself was with Cordelia, so he could command the troops from above, Stahl had Lissa riding with him, so she could heal on the move, Sully was with Kellam, so he could move his large armour without inhibition, Gregor was with Miriel, Gaius was with Tharja, Libra with Maribelle, Nowi with Ricken, Vaike with Frederick, Panne with Olivia, Anna with Virion and lastly Erron was with Donnel.

"So we got the right side?" Donnel said checking over his armour and sword.

"Indeed." Erron spoke plainly, looking down at the young fighter. "Nervous?"

"I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't, but this is it! I gotta do this!" The farm boy said determinedly.

"Well you can't kill with motivation, but it helps I guess." The tall swordsman smirked. "Come, we're beginning the charge." The two joined the ranks. Frederick was leading the attack on the right side.

"The three forts ahead will likely contain reinforcements; group one will assault the left one, group two the right and three the centre." He commanded to the troops. "Ready!? FORWARD!" The split groups charged to their respective targets; the first group was Erron, Donnel, Anna and Virion.

"Virion!" Erron called to the archer, who shot down an approaching barbarian.

"One for the bards!" The noble said triumphantly. Donnel was dealing with a armoured knight, who's thick plate was giving the young man trouble.

"Darnit!" He barely blocked a lance strike, Anna assisted, swiping at the knight's leg allowing Donnel to finish him. "Hooey!"

"You owe me sweetie!" The merchant winked at Donnel, before the two continued to the fort. Erron faced a more experienced fighter, wearing sword-hero plate armour.

"You!" The Plegian shouted. "Be you warrior? Or craven!?" He drew a large black steel blade; an armourslayer.

"Find out for yourself." Erron drew his own sword, clashing with the Plegian hero; who fought with great skill despite the heavy armourslayer blade. Although after a heavy overhead swing, left himself exposed for a killing blow, Erron ran his blade through the hero's side, withdrawing it quickly then sheathing it.

"Hey, wait up bud." The dying swordsman said. "Us mercs don't have much…love for that mad bastard." He was a mercenary? He held up the black sword with his last strength. "Go crack his skull, would ya?" Erron took the armourslayer, and let the man rest peacefully. Donnel, Virion and Anna had finished clearing the outpost, so Erron whistled loudly to signal it's completion. He could see that the other forts had been taken as well, so he headed out and hoped that Robin's plan had succeeded.

"Erron!" A voice called out from up high, Cordelia flew down alone to retrieve the swordsman. "Robin and Chrom are taking the main stronghold alone, they require assistance!" Erron nodded and joined Cordelia on her Pegasus. It didn't take long to reach the front; Chrom and Robin were being outnumbered, but they were holding their own. Cordelia flew low, allowing Erron to jump down for assistance. The three men stood facing the coming warriors.

"The plan?" Chrom said with Falchion drawn.

"Beat our way through, then kill Gangrel." Robin said with an iron sword in one hand and a tome in the other.

"Easy enough." Erron smirked drawing his newly acquired blade, it's weight was unusual but it's intent was clear, the weight and blade shape was for hacking through armour like meat. The three warriors charged through the Plegians cutting down all before them. An armour-general stood to halt their progress, a fitting target for Erron's new toy. "Okay let's try this…" He inhaled deeply holding the armourslayer in front of him. "…Astra!" The blade began to glow an ethereal white-green and trailed like a comet in flight. He could feel the sword's weight fade away, like he was holding a feather. Rushing forward he struck the general at least five times at nearly invisible speed; dicing the armour like paper.

"Astra?! How long did you have that in your pocket?" Robin remarked blasting away a cavalier with a bolt of flame. Erron merely smirked and continued to cut down the Plegian forces, but their progress was halted by a freak bolt of lightning.

"HAHAHAHAH!" The maddening cackle heralded the Mad King's presence. "FINALLY! I have been waiting for this moment!" He pointed his blade at Chrom, it was clearly magical, having a jagged blade like lightning, and crackled with the same element. "Little prince! Have you come to die on my blade?! To share your witch-sister's fate?!"

"GANGREL!" The prince's fury had surfaced. "As long as people like you live, peace can never exist!" He pointed Falchion at the Plegian king. "This is for Emm!" The prince and king fought hard, Gangrel was incredibly nimble; using his blade and the bolts that it could cast. Robin and Erron were dealing with the last of the elite guard, allowing Chrom to get his revenge. The two were surrounded by four soldiers, Robin and Erron weighed up their options.

"Astra!" Erron called as the armourslayer lit up once more.

"Hey I got a new trick too!" Robin held out his sword. "Ignis!" A purple flame enveloped the sword as a scatter of what appeared to be petals floated down from the blade. "It's time to tip the scales!"

"Silence claim you!" Erron shouted cutting down his two foes at blistering speed. Robin buried the burning blade in one of the soldiers, and was left open for an attack, but the last fighter was struck by a javelin thrown from up high.

"Watch yourself, oh great tactician!" Cordelia said sarcastically, causing Robin to scratch his head.

"Time to tip the scales?" Erron questioned, raising an eyebrow at the tactician.

"War banter really isn't my thing." Robin laughed.

"Evidently so." At that point they heard Chrom shout in pain, his fight with Gangrel was taking it's toll; his armour had scorch marks from the lighting and had cuts all across him. "He can't do it alone." Erron charged for Gangrel, swinging his armourslayer wide, forcing him to jump back.

"Oh? Another cretin!?" Gangrel cackled.

"You must die Gangrel." Erron pointed the large blade at the king, putting himself between Gangrel and Chrom. "Not for peace's sake…but as penance for your atrocities."

"HAHAHA! And YOU are to be my judge, jury and executioner?!" The insane king laughed sickeningly.

"No. I am your reaper." He rushed for the king, who managed to dance around Erron's strikes, laughing as he did.

"What's wrong?" He blasted a bolt of lightning at the swordsman, Erron barely avoided it. Erron growled with annoyance.

"Grr, Astra!" For a third time the black blade shone, the strikes forcing Gangrel into a defensive stance, as the fifth slash struck, Gangrel smirked. Charging the blade with electricity, passing through the all metal armourslayer; electrocuting Erron.

"FOOLISH WHELP!" Gangrel screamed bringing his sword up for a rising slash, Erron managed to regain control in his muscles to evade, but it wasn't enough. A searing pain shot through his head as Gangrel's blade tip slashed the swordsman's face, he recoiled and jumped away, holding his hand to his face. His left eye's sight was blurry, he wasn't sure if the eyeball was damaged or if blood was just in the way, he could see a lot of blood pouring to the floor as the adrenaline forced more blood through the cut.

"Erron!" Cordelia shouted flying down to help.

"No! Stay back!" He shouted, urging her to flee.

"Another one of your doves? FALL LIKE YOUR COMMANDER DID!" Gangrel howled as he pointed the blade at the rider, as a bolt struck her out of the sky.

 _ **Pain…**_  
Erron said nothing, his eyes were wide as he saw his friend be shot down, he ran over in stunned silence, she was flying quite low but the bolt hit her directly. Her Pegasus was wide eyed itself, filled with fear and breathing heavily. Erron dropped his sword and knelt beside her, she had been struck in her side, and was breathing hoarsely.

"No…" His eyes stung with blood and tears. "No. NO!" He tried to apply pressure to her wound, but he was fumbling.

"…Erron…" She lightly took his hand, a weak painless smile formed on her face. He could feel his ears fill with white noise, as his head started ringing. She lightly closed her eyes and her smile faded away. (N-No.) He phased out, he began screaming in sorrow, but he couldn't hear himself through the white noise. He saw two figures approaching, Libra and Maribelle, who began to try and help the fallen rider. Erron stumbled back and turned away, the blood still pouring from his face. (No…no…I…she can't…)

(…I failed…)

(…I can't…go on…)

He felt his consciousness fading. But something kept him awake.

 **(No.)**

 **(NO!)**

 **(NOT YET!)**

 **(HE WILL DIE!)**

"HE WILL BURN IN HELL!" He could hear himself, but only for a fleeting moment. A dark feeling surged through him, something evil. It dwarfed his anger from those last moments in Ferox, anger wasn't even the word to describe it. It was an all encompassing hatred, a thirst for blood and vengeance. He stood, ignoring what Maribelle was saying about the cut on his face and plunged the armourslayer into the earth. He drew his own blade and threw the sheath to his side. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the blade, he turned to Gangrel who had put Robin into submission, Erron was losing his control, his thoughts weren't aimed at getting Robin out alive, but to maim Gangrel.

"Can none of you heathens put up a fight!?" The mad king laughed maniacally, but turned to the man who he thought he had broken. "You again?!" He growled, showing frustration.

"SHUT UP." He said loudly, but hollowly. "SHUT THE HELL UP." It transitioned into blind fury. "SHUT UP AND GO TO HELL!" He charged at Gangrel his eyes filled with the primal fury that even Basilio was afraid of, he clashed with the king, attacking unrelentingly.

"Fool!" Gangrel saw a gap in Erron's fit of rage and stabbed the blade in his shoulder.

"Heh, haha…" Erron was laughing sickeningly, with blood dripping down his face. "Haha, HAHAHAHAH!" Even Gangrel looked stunned.

"What? Die you peasa-" He was stopped by a hand gripping his neck tightly, Gangrel dropped his sword and tried desperately to pry the hand from his throat. The grip only tightened, Gangrel looked fearful.

"LOOK AT ME." Erron forced Gangrel's head up as he was crushing the Mad King's windpipe. Gangrel was terrified at the sight, Erron's eyes were visibly burning with hate, his irises glowing like he was possessed, with his pupils sharp like a predator in the night. "I WANT TO SEE THE LIFE FADE FROM YOUR EYES." Gangrel felt a sharp pain in his chest, Erron had impaled the regent. But his rage wasn't sated, he kicked the dying king off of his sword and stabbed him repeatedly on the ground, he threw his sword away and began to pummel Gangrel's lifeless head. He tore the king apart with his bear hands, you couldn't recognise his face. He finally pulled back, breathing heavily he looked at his blood stained hands. (…I did this…) Erron could feel his consciousness fading once more, he had lost a lot of his own blood and was truly exhausted, he could see the others and could hear their cheering, but his whole being felt cold as he fell to the floor.

 _ **Reborn…**_  
Erron shot up, breathing heavily and sweating. He looked around; a clean room, not a bedroom, but a healer's ward. (Where?) He noticed his left eye was covered, after feeling his head he found the left side of his face bandaged up. He dragged himself out of the simple bed he was in and saw he was wearing simple trousers and no shirt, he couldn't find his haori or his gi but a simple cloth shirt was lain at the end of his bed. His steps were shaky, he must've been given some kind of anaesthetic, that or he was still missing most of his blood. He pulled on the shirt and looked out of the room's window, the simple buildings he saw confirmed he was in Ylisse, and how high up he was meant he was in the main castle. He recalled what happened before he woke up, he lost his temper and- (Cordelia!) He exited the room he was in and walked down the castle halls, keeping his hand to the wall to stop himself from falling. It was day time, but surprisingly there weren't any soldiers patrolling the halls, so Erron kept wandering, looking to find anyone that would know where the others were. He could hear voices ahead and stumbled into the throne room of all places, alerting those there to his presence.

"Erron?" Sumia said, who was with Chrom and Robin.

"Where is she!" He shouted, nearly falling over.

"Easy there, you've been out for a week." Chrom said trying to help him stand.

"I don't care!" He pushed the prince away. "Where is Cordelia?!"

"She's fine Erron." Sumia said calmly. "She woke up a few days ago." Relief surged through Erron's mind.

"Where?" He said, regaining his composure.

"Knowing her diligence, she's probably out training." Said Robin. "But you haven't been fully checked yet, Maribelle still needs to see if you've recovered okay."

"I'll take him back." Said Chrom. "We need to talk anyway." Chrom began to lead the swordsman back to his room. "I feel like I need to address this sooner, rather than later." He said seriously. "…What happened before you passed out?" He looked up at the taller man.

"…I…lost control…" He said solemnly.

"Of what?" Chrom questioned.

"It happened once before, back when I served under Basilio. I lost control over my emotions, and all that's left is the hatred of a boy who lost everything." He said grimly. "That's why I'm so calm; if I'm not, then that part of me comes out, and I fear that innocents will be hurt when it does."

"You…lost your temper?" Chrom said incredulously.

"It's a lot more that just being angry, Chrom; it's…a desire…to inflict suffering. It's a dark part of me that I'm afraid of, seeing Cordelia get hurt…brought all the pain back." He clenched his fists. They arrived back at his room.

"I'll send Maribelle to get you looked over, try to rest." Chrom said, Erron just nodded and sat on his bed. He just sat and waited for a good few minutes until the noblewoman healer, Maribelle arrived.

"Glad to see you're awake." She spoke with a refined accent, evident of her upbringing. "Though you should have waited for a healer."

"Apologies." He said flatly, feeling the bandages on his head. "Did I lose my eye?" His deadpan shocked Maribelle.

"Luckily, no. But judging by the cut, if you were a fraction of a second slower, you would have." She grabbed a small hand mirror. "The wraps can come off now." Erron unraveled the bandages on his head and allowed his eye to adjust to the light. "The cut was quite large, so the scar could be…shocking." He took the mirror and pulled the hair out of his eye, it was also apparent that he had grown a beard.

"Ah." The scar reached from his eyebrow down the side of his face, it fell in line with his lip, covering his cheek. "Perfect."

"And now for more pressing matters, pardon my informality, but I have no idea how you are alive." She took some pieces of paper. "Considering how much blood you lost, you should be dead."

"You did a good job healing me then." He ran his finger on his scar. "That or Father Sky has plans for me yet." He smirked.

"Well, you're all clear to go, just don't do anything strenuous, you need to let your blood regulate." Maribelle said with concern.

"Of course, now where are my clothes?"

 _ **Attire…**_  
According to Maribelle, Erron's haori, cloak and gi were damaged beyond repair after the final battle against Gangrel. Although he lost his old mentor's gifts, Virion of all people called in a favour for his formal vassal; an imported haori and gi from Chon'sin and a new cloak.

"Woah, they look pretty fancy." Robin was with Erron to make sure he didn't collapse at all. "Why'd Virion get you these anyways?"

"We go back a few years." Virion had asked him to keep his identity as Rosanne's duke a secret, for whatever reason.

"There's a letter." Robin picked it up.

"Read it, I'll try these on." He took of the shirt he was given and put on the gi, it was sleeveless and was more like a vest, it was dark grey with a navy blue belt.

 _"_ _I Virion, the Archest of Archers."_ Robin began.

"Be honest, how many lines is him bragging?" Erron said, tying the belt.

"About half the letter."

"Thought so, just get to his point."

 _"_ _As a favour to you, my good friend, the Grumpiest of Grumps."_ They both stopped as Erron sighed, Robin stifled a laugh. _"I had these tailored for you, as I know you love your Chon'sin heritage. Yours sincerely, Virion."_ Breaking his composure Robin burst out laughing. "The Grumpiest of Grumps?! To be fair, you are grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy, I just have a low tolerance for idiocy." He put on the black and white haori, which he noticed had an image of a wolf's head stitched on the upper back in white thread, he tied up the large white belt.

"Um, why have you got your arm like that?" Robin pointed to Erron's left arm, which he hadn't put through the sleeve, rather he let it rest through the haori, looking like his arm was in a sling.

"I failed my oath, as a warrior I have dishonoured my name." He spoke solemnly.

"Oath?" Robin scratched his head.

"To keep her safe…"

"Cordelia's fine."

"But I let her get hurt, after I promised to keep her safe, I failed." He sighed.

"I'll never understand you, anyways won't that cause you trouble in a fight?" The tactician questioned.

"That's the point; a guardian who fails there oath…doesn't deserve to live." He tied Hoissurā to his waist. "Either I retain my honour and kill myself, or live disgraced; as a rōnin."

"I'm glad you stopped training me, that logic seems incredibly flawed." Robin said.

"That's why you're the tactician and I'm the swordsman." He chuckled and placed his pauldron on his shoulder. "Now what?"

"Well Frederick is training the recruits, Stahl and Sully are patrolling the city, Kellam is guarding the castle, Virion is out flirting most likely, some of the guys went home, whilst the others are helping with restoration and Chrom and Sumia…" Robin stopped.

"Chrom and Sumia…what?" He said questioningly. Robin backed away silently. "Robin. What's going on?"

"I can't say, Chrom said not to!" He ran off.

"Robin!" He was already gone. "Dammit." He left as well to chase the poor tactician.

 _ **Pursuit...**_  
"Get back here!" Erron shouted chasing down Robin.

"HELP MEEEEEE!" Robin wailed. Despite the tactician's lead he was stopped as he ran around a corner, he got caught by his hood. "NO PLEASE!"

"Robin, what are you doing?" A certain red haired knight had stopped him.

"CAN'T STOP, BEING CHASED." He panted.

"By who?" She questioned.

"Robin!" Erron turned the corner to see Robin. "What is-" He stopped as Cordelia turned as well. "Cordelia!"

"Erron? You're awake!" She let go of Robin who fell to the floor panting. "I was worri-" She was cut off as Erron hugged her tightly.

"You're…alive…" He said quietly.

"Please…bear hug." Cordelia said, Erron quickly let go. They stood awkwardly before Erron felt a sting on his face and a loud clapping noise, Robin audibly gasped.

"Don't ever scare me like that again! Never mind me, Robin told me you went on some blood rage!" She shouted as Erron rubbed his slapped face. Robin burst out laughing.

"Hey! I'm not done with you yet!" Erron grabbed him by his hood and yanked him into an upright position. "What is happening with Chrom and Sumia?"

"They're…um…getting married." Robin winced preparing for the worst.

"…What." Erron said, stunned more with this news than being slapped.

"Chrom proposed after the fight against Gangrel." Cordelia said nonchalantly. "They're to be wed in a month."

"I have no clue whether to be jumping for joy, or wanting to kill something." He was genuinely lost for words.

"I'd go with the former." Said Robin, who Erron dropped.

"…Why has so much happened in a week, I was only out for a week!" He waved his free arm around confusedly. "I…need to lay down." He held his head.

"Good thing Chrom gave you an actual room for the time being." Robin stood up and straightened out his cloak.

"I'll take him there." Cordelia said, leading the stunned swordsman along. The room was pretty large, to be expected of a royal castle, with a table and a few chairs, a large bed and other simple furnishings. He took out his hair band and fell onto the bed. "Shocking news, huh?"

"Sumia…getting married? To the prince of Ylisse of all people? Wait…Sumia is going to be the QUEEN." He held his head.

"Yeah, I don't know what was stranger, Chrom proposing on a battlefield, or Sumia practically leaping at him when he asked." She laughed.

"How are you taking it?" After the night Cordelia confessed to Erron her love for Chrom, he knew she'd be weird about Sumia and Chrom together, especially considering Sumia was one of her closest friends.

"To be honest, I'm happy that Sumia's happy." She said kindly. "After I found out, I gave a lot of thought to what you said to me that night, about how I'd only be sad if I kept chasing him." She stood by the window of the room and gazed out. "So I've decided to move on."

"I'm glad…it pained me to see you beat yourself up over Chrom, especially after what happened at the border…and I'm proud you didn't cope with your loss like I did; you didn't let vengeance be your drive, you let their memory be your strength." He said staring up at the ceiling.

"And looking back, it was petty really. What I did to get his attention, gods I was a fool." She giggled.

"Well you've got time to search." He smirked. "Our conflict with Plegia…is over, I just hope it lasts…"

"I'm sure it will." She turned and smiled at her friend. "And you've got time to search as well!" She laughed, as Erron blushed. "Rest well!" Cordelia mockingly sung as she left.

(…Is it truly over?...) He closed his eyes.

(…Will it last?...)

 **(You know it won't, FOOL.)**

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
HOLY HELL THIS WAS LONG. I hope I've gave the first half of the game's events a nice finish! Wrapping up the war with Plegia, we have peace…for now…MWA HA HA! I do sincerely hope you've enjoyed these chapters, it has been incredibly fun to write, and of course! Our story isn't over at all! Which is why I turn to you readers for something!

 **Ahem.**

Those who have played the game know that we have a two year time gap before any more story related events happen, so I ask of you this:

If you would like, PM me an idea for an interlude chapter! We could have adventures into the outrealms! Maybe seasonal holidays! (A merry Shepherds Christmas!) Or other one-shot convos you want me to write about, be they serious or funny! Only one rule I have: other than Erron himself, I've got a few of the pairs decided for the other Shepherds, so I don't mind you wanting conversations, but nothing ship related, I've got some ideas brewing in the romance cauldron!

BUT AS ALWAYS! I thank you SO much for stopping and reading! I welcome your reviews and criticism! AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY! **-Muffin**


	20. Interlude 1: Shackled Hearts

_**Foreword**_  
Our first interlude chapter! The person who requested this idea didn't want to be named and I shall respect that. Anyways, enjoy!

(Legal bollocks goes here.) (You know the drill.)

 _ **Invitation…**_  
 _"_ _You are cordially invited to the wedding of his highness Exalt Chrom and her highness Queen Sumia."_ Stahl read aloud as Lissa handed the invitations to all of the Shepherds. Frederick had called them to the barracks for some special announcement, it turned out to be the wedding invitations; so Virion and Maribelle had a field day. Erron looked through his invitation somewhat disinterested. (It's going to be loud…and crowded…and-) He stopped when he saw a line grab his eye.

 _"_ _Formal attire."_ As soon as he whispered those words Virion slid next to him with a smug grin on his face.

"It appears we have some shopping to do, my dear friend!" He said excitedly. Erron turned to face him and sighed heavily.

"I choose the suit, you pay." He said tiredly, his mind flashing back to the insanely gaudy suits he had to wear back in Rosanne. Virion laughed and smiled once more.

"But of course!" Virion chuckled before grabbing Erron by his arm and dragging him away, who didn't even resist; no one could stop Virion from fine clothes shopping, no one.

 _ **Tailor…**_  
Erron flat out refused to be measured at the tailor that Virion took him to, on grounds of his phobia, so he walked through the shop looking for a simple, plain suit…until a certain red-headed merchant showed up.

"Hey, Wolfey!" She said chirpily, drawing a sigh from Erron.

"Hello, Anna…" He greatly disliked the merchant's nickname for him, more so than Gaius'. "What do you want?"

"Oh nothing really, I jus-" Erron cut her off.

"Lies. What are you trying to sell to me?" Last time he was approached by Anna she tried to sell him sword polish that 'would make the edge undullable!' not realising that Hoissurā's blade was nigh indestructible…also that 'undullable' isn't a word.

"Whaaaat? Why'd you think I'd do that?" She said, feigning innocence. "…I just thought you'd be interested in some formal wear."

"At your prices? I'd rather wear my haori." Erron said annoyedly.

"Ah, but this isn't any old suit!" The 'this isn't any old' schtick was Anna's favourite hook line. "It's from Chon'sin. Which is where you're from, right?" Finally, she had got his attention.

"Then it is a yukata, correct?" He said blankly.

"Uh yeah, how'd you-" Once again she was cut off.

"They do not wear formal suits in Chon'sin, their clothing is vastly different from Ylissean dress." He said fondly; when he first visited his mother's homeland, he saw that the attire was akin to that which he saw her wear around their house.

"Well yeah," She said disinterestedly, before pulling out the item of clothing she was fobbing off. "Here it is! Lovely, right?" Admittedly it was crafted beautifully; a long yukata that reached down past the knee, it was made from a deep blue silk and had wave patterns near the bottom, likened to the sea.

"It is…very nice." He said looking over it, but he mentally reprimanded himself for falling for Anna's tricks. "…How much?"

"Three hundred gold pieces." She said frankly, Erron was taken aback.

"Three hundred? Anna, are you unwell? You'd usually sell me this for thousands." He spoke sarcastically.

"No," She said genuinely. "I'm serious, you're the only person I know that values this import stuff." She grinned. "Who'd you think Virion bought your clothes from?" She rested her index finger on her chin and smiled; her trademark pose. "Little things too; you bought odd trinkets and such when I said they were from Chon'sin."

"My mother was from Chon'sin…those odds and ends reminded me of her." He said with a sad smile on his face. "I'll take it Anna, thank you." He pulled out a small bag of gold coins, probably four of five hundred gold, but he didn't really mind; he hardly spent his pay.

"Pleasure doing business with you!" She winked and handed him the yukata. "I'm sure it'll look great! See you at the wedding!" She waved and left as abruptly as she showed up.

"Why do I fall for her tricks…" He smirked. "Virion!" He called over to the noble, who was flirting with the store clerk. "You owe me."

 _ **Pleasantries…**_  
The night of Chrom and Sumia's wedding approached quickly. The Shepherds were the only ones really invited, and they all showed up for their commander. Erron had been out to buy a gift for the newly weds, so he wasn't in the castle waiting. He was wearing the new yukata as he walked back to the castle, but he wore his cloak over it; to not draw attention. He walked up to the entrance to the main hall, to see Frederick being the doorman. The two exchanged glances and nodded at each other; it wasn't a secret that the two never really got along, ever since Erron was recruited.

"Good day Erron." The knight said flatly.

"Likewise." The nomad said equally blank, before walking into the castle. The sight was impressive to say the least, the place was decorated quite extravagantly, Erron internally smirked at how much he could see was stylised by Sumia.

"Hey Erron!" A light voice said. Erron turned to see Lissa and Maribelle heading over to him, both wearing fancy dresses.

"Lissa. Maribelle." He bowed his head courteously.

"This is a royal wedding you plebeian!" Maribelle said harshly, Erron raised his eyebrows. "You came dressed in A CLOAK?" She said pointing her parasol at him.

"That's a bit harsh Maribelle!" Lissa said with a flush on her face. "Sorry Erron, you know Maribelle…" She said to him in a hushed voice. He just smirked and walked over to a coat hangar and took off his cloak. He turned back to the two women and chuckled at their stunned silence.

"Are we finished with the formalities?" He said with a light grin on his face, Lissa and Maribelle both stared, mouths agape.

"Erron…" Lissa finally spoke. "You clean up nicely!" She spoke excitedly, circling him. The yukata reaching past his knees, leading down to his sandalled feet. He had also had his ponytail styled into a single, long braid.

"My, oh my." Maribelle said, still stunned. A blush of embarrassment on her face. "I…um…ahem, that is to say-"

"Us 'plebeians' do have our moments." He said flatly, before walking off to find Chrom. The prince was pacing in another room with Robin palming his face.

"Oh, hey Erron." Robin said frustratedly. Erron looked over at Chrom pacing around nervously.

"Please don't tell me…" He said bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Yuuuup. Jitters." Robin said scratching his head.

"It's not jitters!" Chrom finally broke out of his doldrums. "Anyone would be nervous on their wedding day!"

"But not this much…" Robin sighed again. Looking over to Erron and shrugging.

"I just want things to go smoothly-" Chrom's skittishness irritated Erron.

"And they will, just calm down." He spoke out. "You've faced armies head on without fear, and this worries you?"

"Well…no, you're right. I can do this!" Chrom planted his fist in his palm and left to take his place at the altar.

"Go get 'em!" Robin said sarcastically, to which Chrom was oblivious to. After he had left Robin quickly said. "Fifty gold says Sumia trips and Chrom messes up the vows." Causing Erron to chuckle.

"O' ye of little faith." And the two headed back to their places.

 _ **Matrimony…**_  
Chrom was stood at the altar waiting for his bride, who was stood outside excitedly.

"This is actually happening!" Sumia said giddily. "Is my dress on right, do I look good?" Cordelia and Erron both smiled at their friend, Cordelia was Sumia's bridesmaid, which Erron thought was a little insensitive, and Erron was to give her off, which baffled him when she asked.

 _"Erron…" The Pegasus knight said shyly._

 _"Yes, Sumia?" He said nonchalantly._

 _"You know the wedding is soon…"_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"And my father passed away…"_

 _"Yes…"_

 _"Will you give me off at the altar?" She said closing her eyes._

 _"Of course." He said kindly._

 _"Really?" Sumia clapped her hands together._

 _"Considering all you've done for me, it's the least I can do." He said with a smile on his face. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you don't trip." He laughed._

"You're coping better than Chrom at least…" He muttered.

"Sumia you look wonderful." Cordelia said taking her friend's hand, Erron had to agree; Sumia wore a simple white bridal gown and a tiara, one of Lissa's most likely. "Everything's fine. Don't worry." The scarlet haired woman giggled; she herself wore a red dress that matched her hair, and as always, she wore her signature feather hair clips. Erron looked out over the town contemplatively.

"Erron are you alright?" Sumia said in a concerned tone.

"Sixteen years…" He said as a smile crept on his face. "It's been sixteen years since the day you two found me." He turned to the two people he considered his only family. "Now look, one of you is a queen and the other, the captain of the royal Pegasus Knights." He shook his head and regained his focus. "I couldn't be more proud." He said, with true emotion seeping through his voice.

"You're such a sap." Cordelia said jokingly, and Erron smirked. They all turned to the castle as the organ began to play.

"…It's time." Erron said, looking down at Sumia, who was shuffling her feet. "Nervous?"

"…A little." She said timidly, Erron took her arm, as customary and reassured her. "W-wait your phobia!"

"Not relevant." He said whilst smiling. He did feel a little uneasy about the contact, but nothing too serious. "Now. We shouldn't keep them waiting." The doors to the hall opened, and the three walked in. It was somewhat surreal for Erron; the nomad that he was, leading one of his oldest friends down the aisle to be married…to a king. Luckily, Sumia didn't trip whilst walking to the altar, and she stood next to Chrom. Libra was the minister for the ceremony and began to recite the wedding rites. Erron and Cordelia stood to the side and looked over their friend, he phased out and glanced over to the scarlet haired knight and saw something worrying; a smile that was hiding sorrow…and such forlorn eyes. (She hasn't let go…) He put it out of his mind and would sort it out later, he was brought back to reality by Libra.

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest said with a smile. And of course the shepherds applauded and cheered as Chrom and Sumia shared their intimate moment.

 _ **Revelry…**_  
The reception after the wedding was all Erron really expected; it was loud. He stood to the side drinking a glass of water, unlike his comrades, most of them chugging mead or ale like it was air. He looked over the others as he thought about all that happened for him to be at this point, Maribelle was chastising Gaius for the fact he didn't show up in a suit, Nowi and Ricken were running around playing tag, Virion was flirting with Olivia, and Cordelia…was sat alone with a weary look on her face and a empty glass in her hand. He sighed and headed over to his friend, she didn't look up, only staring at her glass.

"You lied." He said with his arms crossed. She finally looked up at him, cheeks tinted pink. "…Are you drunk?" She didn't reply, only slumping. Erron sighed and sat next to the redhead. "I thought I was the quiet one." He said scratching the back of his neck, even still Cordelia said nothing. "Do you wish to talk about it?" He now realised how much he had said that to her.

"…Yeah, but not here…" She finally said, her voice meek.

"Good." The raven haired man said flatly. "It's too loud for me anyways." Cordelia stood shakily and left with Erron, to nowhere in particular, they just left. Although Sumia caught sight of the two leaving, she didn't pursue. (Are they okay?) The two walked aimlessly in silence for a good while, until Cordelia finally spoke.

"Could you…come with me?" She said worriedly.

"That was my intention." He said emotionlessly. They walked together as Cordelia led them to the castle's sleeping quarters, Erron did wonder where the two were going, until they stopped outside of Cordelia's room, then his mind blanked. (Why here?)

"…Come in." She opened the door and spoke quietly, Erron shrugged his shoulders and walked in. Cordelia sat on the side of her bed and Erron sat on a chair across from her, he let her compose herself before saying anything.

"So, I assume you weren't drinking excessively out of happiness?" He said raising his eyebrows.

"Why can't I…just let him go." She said fighting back tears. "I thought I did…but seeing him with Sumia just…" She stopped and began to sob quietly.

"No tears Cordelia." Erron said as he got up and sat next to his old friend.

"Does fate just want me to be alone?!" She said, her voice angry and sorrowful. She then sat for a few seconds before speaking again, but quietly. "Is…is this how you felt?" She looked up at Erron's red eyes.

"That depends really." He said laughing with a hollow darkness. "Does a part of you simply wish to force others to feel your pain?" He continued as Cordelia shook her head. "Or do you wish to close off from everything and hope it all fades…" She shook her head once more. "Or is it a longing to…" He looked down to his feet. "Love?" The word felt strange to him. "And to be loved in return?" This time Cordelia nodded slowly. "Ah…" He sighed and scratched the scar on his face.

"…Erron…" She said with an inquiring tone, the swordsman turned back to her in acknowledgement. "Have you ever been…in love?" She said whilst wiping the tears from her face.

"No." He said coldly, looking away once more.

"A better question then." Normality returned to her voice. "Do you know what it feels like, to love?"

"Wanting to hold someone close until your last breath." He said immediately. "To be willing to lay your own life down to see their's continue." His tone was warm, and his voice somewhat breathy. "And to put their happiness above your own." Cordelia grew tired listening to his lulling voice. "…But that is only my understanding." He turned to see Cordelia's eyes half lidded. "Rest now."

"One last thing…" She said, a blush appearing on her face.

"Yes?" He said as Cordelia edged closer to him. "…Are you oka-" He found himself being cut off; two hands cupped his cheeks as a warmth enveloped his lips. For a brief moment he let his eyes close and allowed this strange…blissful feeling takeover him, yet it lasted for a fleeting moment as the reality of what just happened set in and his phobia flared up immensely. He quickly put his hands on Cordelia's shoulders and, somewhat forcefully, pushed her away; her lips parting from his own.

"Erron! I…" Realising what she had just done sobered her up, she saw Erron's eyes wide and fearful as he was shaking slightly, he then pulled his arms from her shoulders and drew them into himself. "I'm so sorry Erron, I just-" She tried to reach her hand out to him.

"Don't..." He said, almost pleadingly, he stood up and walked a few paces away from Cordelia, his voice wasn't that of anger, but of childlike fear.

"Please, I'm sor-" She stood and tried to apologise.

"Don't!" He said, turning away from her and sighing. He placed a hand on his own chest and said. "Why?"

"Erron, please…I'm sorry I just…" She said before placing her left hand on her right arm and looked down. "I…don't want to be…alone…"

"Cordelia..." He turned his head slightly. He had calmed his phobia as Cordelia sat back down on her bed. After a few moments of silence Erron wondered why there was no response as he turned fully he saw his closest friend, fast asleep. He sighed and silently tucked her into her bed without waking her, and began to leave. As he left, a vague whisper caught his ears.

"Alone…I don't want to be alone…please…" Cordelia was sobbing in her sleep, he turned back to see her squirming in discomfort. He walked back over and sat, cross-legged on the floor facing Cordelia and gently took her hand within his own.

"You won't be…" He whispered lightly as the sleeping woman began to settle. "…It could never be me…" He sighed as something within his chest ached. "You saved me from my own pain once before…" He closed his own eyes and felt sleep take him. "And I'll guard you from pain 'til the final silence takes me." He lamented. "It's the least I can do…"

"…No…"

 _"_ _It's all I can do…"_

 _ **Closing Comments…**_  
This certainly took a while, I brainstormed what I could do with the request and ended up, once again writing about these two…writing this makes me feel a lot more empathy towards Cordelia as a character in the game; when you think about it, she strived for perfection to honour the past Pegasus Knights, she was teased by the other knights because she was young, she can never have the person that she always held dear, she lost her fellow soldiers, her captain! AND JUST BRAVE FACED IT. Kudos Cordy, kudos. But alas, build those walls high enough, they will fall even harder…she's just afraid of being lonely; and hey, ain't we all?

I'm still accepting your PM requests for interlude chapters.

And I hope you have/had a wonderful Christmas!

As always, thank you for stopping by, joy to you all. **-Muffin**


	21. Interlude 2: Creeping Shadows

_**Foreword**_  
Hello again! A friend of mine who I get to proofread my chapters frequently; requested this chapter, and of course I'm happy to oblige, I hope you enjoy!

(Phoenix Wright stuff) (OBJECTION!)

 _ **Diligence…**_  
Almost a year had passed since the war against Plegia was over and even though peace had returned to Ylisse, most of the Shepherds still trained regularly under Frederick's scrutiny, in case of bandits, risen, or even any of Gangrel's splinter factions.

"Listen up!" The great knight bellowed. "It is apparent that only a few of you have learnt combat abilities, they are a great asset and can be the deciding factor in any encounter!" He pontificated before drawing a steel lance and facing an armoured training dummy. He inhaled deeply before calling out. "Luna!" He trusted the lance forward, as it shimmered with a clear light; which pierced through the armour cleanly, making its way out the other side.

"Pfft," Sully scoffed. "No disrespect Frederick, but can't anyone do that with enough power?" To Sully's credit, Frederick specifically could have pierced the armour without the use of Luna.

"Not likely." Erron spoke up.

"Care to explain, Erron?" The captain said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Sol, Astra and Luna." The nomad said, closing his eyes thoughtfully. "The Triad of Form."

"Oh…not many have read those texts." Frederick said, his eyes widening in surprise of Erron's knowledge.

"Sol is the aspect of the heart;" He said, ignoring Frederick. "The heart's convictions, realised as the blazing sun." He continued the explanation, closing down Frederick's argument. "Astra is the aspect of the body; giving the body freedom, to strike as fast as a star-storm." He said drawing his own blade as it lit up in a pale green light. "And Luna, the aspect of the mind; to remove the obstruction of armour from thought, making the strike's placement as clear as the light of the moon." He sheathed Hoissurā. "All different, yet similar."

"Well what about the others? Like Vengeance, Lethality and Ignis?" Robin said with interest, his right elbow resting on his left palm, with his hand on his chin.

"Vengeance and Lethality are quite different;" Erron said, opening his eyes. "Vengeance converts one's physical pain into power, very dangerous however, high risk of serious injury." His frankness stunned the other Shepherds. "Lethality is…not as simple." He scratched his head. "A brief moment of peerless vision; letting you see the most vital spot on an opponent, given any circumstance. The only problem; the user needs to be able to act accordingly, otherwise the skill is rendered useless."

"And Ignis?" The tactician questioned the nature of his own skill.

"Part of another triad, the Triad of Void; Ignis, Cataegis and…" Erron hesitated. "Tenebris…" All three weren't well documented, as in their nature. "I know little of the three…Robin, you somehow used Ignis; a way of converting latent magical power into flame." A flame of sorts, more magic than flame…and the petals were unexplainable. "Cataegis allows one to tame the fury of a storm." The skill was linked to Hoissurā, but Erron had not yet managed to realise the blade's power. "And Tenebris…" The mention of the word made him hesitate slightly, for some reason. "Is a power…better left untouched." He said bitterly.

"How so?" The tactician questioned.

"…I'd rather not divulge." Erron replied, crossing his arms.

"Anyways…" Frederick said after clearing his throat to get the others' attention. "It would appear that you two already have some prior ability." He looked between the nomad and tactician. "Would you be so kind as to give instruction where you can?" Robin groaned at the tedium whilst Erron nodded silently.

 _ **Solace…**_  
For Erron, teaching the other Shepherds was…not easy for him; his lacking social graces, his apathetic disposition and mainly because Astra was a byproduct of his training with Wei'lu; which he could not replicate given the…unorthodox methods of his mentor. So somewhat unceremoniously, he left the others as Frederick saw his inability as a teacher. Later that night he left the castle, which was a normality for him nowadays, he would find seclusion in any of the surrounding forests and practice Cataegis.

He stood out in a small clearing with his eyes closed, letting the wind blow dully through his hair, the only sound was the gentle rustling of the wind blowing through the trees. He pushed his slung left arm out of his haori, the empty sleeved half falling down to his side. Erron inhaled long and deeply and placed his left hand on the scabbard of Hoissurā and drew it slowly with his right, as he did so he exhaled a word rather than speaking.

"Cataegis." He finished the word at the same time the sword left its sheath, the wind stopped dead and dead silence resumed. He lightly swung the blade from right to left, as a gentle breeze followed it. He then brought it back in the other direction with a lot more force, causing a powerful gust to blow to the right. He ran his finger along the flat of the blade and smirked. (The blade whistled like the wind when it cut down the unjust…) His mentor's words came back to him. He then did a sequence of rapid swings as the wind howled and whipped around his form, he finished with another exhale and sheathed the blade slowly, as the wind died down and returned to its normal flow. Yet something gripped in his chest after he finished; the wind began to howl once more on its own accord, but it was much more violent this time, he clutched his head with his hands as a splitting pain coursed through his skull. He felt himself slip in and out of his consciousness, emotions swirling inside him; rage…sorrow…hate…longing…

 _"…_ _Peace…"_ Erron double took as he heard that being 'said'. _"Rest!"_ It returned, but more hollow voices were present, the wind screamed louder and harsher; it was the wind that was carrying the 'voice'.

 _"_ _PLEASE!"_ Multiple screams pierced his ears they all shouted and pleaded with Erron for 'peace'. (W-what is…happening.) He fell to his knees and clutched his head tighter, as if to ring out the pleas from his mind. _"WE BEG OF YOU!"_

"What…" He spoke aloud, hoping to silence the voices. "Do you want!?" He shouted back into the night.

 _"_ _SAVE US!"_ The sheer volume of the cry forced Erron to the floor as his skull rang. He forced his hands to the ground to support himself as his breath became fast and heavy. (What from?)

 _"_ _Our past…our present…our future…"_ They didn't scream but every word stung with pain and sorrow. _"End this cycle…"_ That phrase repeated over and over, maddeningly so. _"FREE US FROM THIS SUFFERING!"_ The shouting cacophony of voices tore Erron's conscious from him. He slammed his right fist into earth and shouted.

"ENOUGH!" He cried out, the voices quietened, but not to his call. "Wha-" A power coursed through his clenched hand, he felt it surge through him, it was ferocious yet completely empty of intent. Erron remarked at his hand, which began to seemingly burn…in a dark-blue blaze; rippling the air with its presence, the power was dark and devoid, more so than whenever he lost control.

"Ahh, Tenebris." A human voice responded, it hissed and held an airy sarcasm to it. "And with you as its chosen, I had my doubts at first; but the darkness suits you, Ironblood." A circle of glyphs appeared a few feet away from Erron and in a flash of purple light, a slender man in sorcerer's robes stood before him.

"Y-you!?" Erron froze at the sight of the dark mage, he…was the one he killed at the royal castle, just before he joined the Shepherds. Yet he was very much alive and well, and also had both of his legs, contrary to their last encounter. "You died by my blade." He stood shakily to his feet and clenched his fist, dispersing the dark flames.

"That I did, but I was still of use to my master, so I was spared from the reaper's touch for as long as needs be." His voice was calm, eerily so. "As were you." He pointed at the nomad, as Erron began to chuckle hollowly.

"Voices in my head…" A wild grin stuck to his face. "…And now the dead speak to me." He laughed louder. "I suppose I truly have gone mad." His dry sarcasm shone through as usual.

"I am no more dead than you, Ironblood." That title grated at Erron.

"I've long since relinquished my ties to the Khans." His smirk faded and he placed his hand on Hoissurā's hilt defensively.

"Your band of idiots holds many recusants it would seem." The mysterious sorcerer laughed. "Yet I wonder…" He curled his fingers with a malicious smile. "What would they think of your alignment with the shadows?" Erron faltered momentarily, if Tenebris came to him then he would be seen as an enemy of Naga's will.

"I care not for their opinions." He half-lied.

"Such apathy…yet as I said…you were spared the grave; from your own suicidal 'protection'." The Grimleal man spoke with his own sarcasm. "That Pegasus knight must mean the world to you." He snidely remarked. Erron restrained his anger. "What if _you_ were to hurt her?"

"I cannot…" The nomad began to rise to the sorcerer's biting words. "I will not…see her harmed."

"Can you be so sure?" He replied quickly. "You've lost yourself before-ah…no not 'yourself'…" The Grimleal's cryptic speech began to infuriate Erron. "You've let _them_ fight your battles when you could not." Erron growled in response. "My words anger you…the truth can be a pain can it not?"

"Speak. Clearly." He snarled.

"Anything you have felt…ever since that oh so tragic day…was never your own emotion." This baffled the swordsman. "You think that your curse's only factor was a mere eye change? Have you not wondered why you are plagued by blind hatred? When you took up that blade in your father's stead, you sealed your fate; doomed to harbour the pain of those that have fallen because of that sword."

"I've got enough pain as is, thank you very much." He replied with sarcasm.

"Fool…hatred and loneliness was all you had before your kin were slaughtered." The dark mage spat at the nomad. "You are nothing more than a feckless husk! Hatred is your truth! Any joy or empathy you have 'felt' are memories of those of the blade!" Erron let the words settle in his mind. "Pathetic…you cannot even see this as your reality…"

"If I am to be honest…" Erron deadpanned. "…I often wonder…is my ruthlessness due to anger? Or is it a lack…of feeling?" He opened his hand and the blue flames danced in his palm once more. "…So if you speak truthfully, I am not surprised."

"So you see…" The mage smirked at the nomad. "Tenebris holds you, Ironblood." The magic glyphs circled the sorcerer and he disappeared in another flash of light.

"…Emotionless…" He whispered to himself as he gazed into his burning hand, he felt no pain, but he could feel the malicious power surge within him. (Tenebris…this power is corrupt…they mustn't know.) Tightening his fist and calming himself dissipated the blaze from his arm. He stood and contemplated on what just occurred before returning to the castle, his mind weighed down.

Returning to the castle he dismissed the guards who let him back in to the grounds, he paced through the halls with his thoughts heavy. Before he reached his own room, a light melody hung around his ears; a gentle harp was being played, at this time of night only one person would be playing. (…Cordelia…) He sighed as he passed her room and just waited outside and listened. The notes were despondent; holding no sorrow as they usually would, but the tune brought him peace. He debated knocking on the door and talking, but he hesitated heavily. (Would…) He stopped and hung his head. (Would _I_ …ever hurt you?) Doubt forced its way back into his mind. (Whatever I said to comfort you…did I ever truly feel it?)

"I-" He halted. (…I won't burden you…you have enough to deal with…) As the harp stopped gently, Erron briskly walked away as quiet as he could and returned to his own quarters. Yet he would not sleep, he sat at the end of his bed and held his sheathed blade in his hands, it was aggravating him. (Hoissurā…'cut down the unjust'…that's a lie as well.) "This sword…this blood…what… _am_ I?" He sighed deeply and placed the blade on his table. (This damn thing has caused enough suffering.) Erron sat for a few minutes thinking what he should do. (The Ironbloods…I need to speak with Basilio.) He wrapped his cloak around himself and took his bow and a quiver of arrows, yet he left Hoissurā on the table. (I don't need it anymore.) He took one last look around his room and left once more, except not leaving a letter, as he did all those years ago.

 _ **Closing Comments**_  
First things first, I'm very sorry for not updating in OVER A MONTH! College booted back in and projects are taking time, so these chapters will be infrequent, hopefully not as bad as this one though. (Very sorry once again!) Also this chapter marks the end of the interludes! So we will be resuming main story events, yay! Thank you all for reading, leave reviews and stuff if you want, and have a lovely day! -Muffin

 _ **Extras**_  
LATIN; WOO! Personally I always thought that the skills that characters could learn -Ignis, Aether, Lethality and whatnot- Needed a bit of clarification, so I decided to add my own thoughts on their nature. Since Sol, Astra, Luna, Aether and Ignis are all Latin names I decided to add some more, with Latin names; Cataegis and Tenebris meaning storm and darkness respectively, and the idea of the skills being linked into trios feels right to me, I dunno, anyways thanks for reading once again!


	22. Chapter 20: Conflict's Ignition

_**Foreword**_  
Here we go! Back to the main story, Erron's off to have words with Basilio concerning his bloodline and other familial matters. Enjoooyyy! (SORRY FOR LATENESS, STUFF IS EXPLAINED IN THE CLOSING COMMENTS!)

(I do not own Fire Emblem or it's characters.) (Italics are quotes, bold text is for scene transitions and brackets are for thoughts and whispers.)

 _ **Kinship…**_  
After the Plegian war, Ferox had been replenishing their forces; as they took the brunt of the Plegian army's wrath. Flavia had done a great job to restore the warrior nation to its former glory, to Basilio's chagrin. The former Khan was reviewing some recruit reports that Flavia had given him. (Why do I have to do paperwork…) Basilio sighed and continued with them, until a cool wind caught him off guard. The warrior looked to the window of the war room, which was still closed, night had fell and the room was only lit by an oil lamp. (Strange…) As far as he knew he was the only person there, yet an ominous presence was carried along the unexplained gust.

"Hello...Basilio." An earthy voice echoed through the room, it didn't seem to come from anywhere.

"Who goes there?" The Khan boomed, reaching for his personal axe.

"I'm not so sure myself…" Seemingly from the shadows, a cloaked figure walked out of the corner of the room, tall and imposing.

"Erron?" The deep voice did sound familiar to him. "Wha-"

"Erron is gone…or was he ever real…" The cloaked man extended his hand, as darkened blue flames began to flit around his palm, Basilio gasped in shock. "Answers, Basilio." He demanded.

"Tenebris…how…why do you have it?" Basilio lowered his axe and questioned Erron.

"I was hoping you could tell me." He balled his fist and the flames dispersed. "In fact, I believe there is a lot you've hid from me." His words were biting, but his tone was that of feigned sorrow.

"How'd you even get here?" Basilio said through grit teeth, trying to avoid the question.

"You'd think that I'd know this place inside out, after three years of service." Erron replied with his usual sarcasm. "Now, I believe some explanations are in order."

"…Fine…" Basilio huffed and laid his axe down at his table. "What do you want to know?"

"What has this curse turned me into?" He spread his arms out, urging for an answer.

"Something which I should've seen…" Basilio sighed and sat down. "I should never have let you leave the first time…"

"So that I could be caged up instead?" Erron shot back. "So I would be a slave to my blood?"

"I put you down this path…I admit that, and am sorry for it." Erron was not appeased whatsoever. "Can you blame me? Farah was my closest friend…I kept you here because I didn't want you dying like he did." Basilio said stressfully. "So I tried to guide you, however I could…to be a father to yo-"

"Don't speak of him." Erron cut off the Khan angrily. "You lost that right when you left him to rot." He spat the words out violently. "…A father? Is that what you thought you were to me? What kind of father has their child _assassinate_ people?" Basilio grimaced. "I was no son to you." He looked down, his hood still up; hiding the pain on his face.

"Is…that how you truly feel?" Basilio whispered.

"I wonder if it is…" Erron remarked with a dry tone. "Is this anger even mine?" He walked and sat at the other end of the table, the oil lamp's light flickered, allowing Basilio the slightest glimpse of Erron's face; his usually fierce eyes were void and dead.

"Well it seems you've learned the true effects of your curse." Basilio said whilst leaning on his elbows.

"Why keep it from me?" The nomad responded.

"You have a short fuse." The Khan replied with a small chuckle.

"True enough…" Erron said, with a slight smile, despite the animosity Erron held for the Khan they could still joke together without much tension, no matter their differences; the past they shared kept them close. The two sat their for a while, Basilio would've offered him a drink, but the nomad never drank ale or mead, though it didn't stop him from trying.

"Drink?" The older warrior said, going to grab himself some booze, even if Erron wasn't.

"No." The swift response prompted Basilio to smirk.

"Alright, come with me." Basilio scratched his head, holding a bottle of Feroxi mead; the strong stuff. He led through a few corridors, earning a few glances from guards; given the mysterious man accompanying him. "Well I was planning to give you these when you were ready to become Khan."

"Not happening." Erron returned quickly, still heavily against the idea.

"I know, I know." Basilio huffed. "They're just some mementos, from your father." The Khan opened a doorway into a long room, a dedicated armoury; weapons and armour lining all walls.

"All of this was my father's?" Erron said in disbelief, the array of swords and armour pieces was staggering.

"Most, yeah…some is mine." Basilio pointed to a rack of axes and heavy armour. "But these, are what I wanted you to have." He headed over to the back of the room and opened a case, holding a menacing looking sword. "This is Reaver; your old man's blade before he started using Hoissurā, which I notice you don't have with you."

"That sword started all of this, it'll be better off locked up." Erron deadpanned, taking Reaver into his hand; it had a good weight to it, the blade itself was long; more so than Falchion even, the cutting edge of the blade had a slight inward curve, leading near the top, where it cut back to a normal shape; intended for slicing limbs. The back edge of the blade was straight, not used for cutting. The blade itself was black steel, similar to that of an armourslayer and the handle was longer than a normal sword; meaning it was intended to be used as a two-hander. "…Crude…" Erron remarked, running his hand across the blade's flat, noticing an etching near the hilt: 'Reaver'.

"Farah used that, long before Hoissurā, foremost he was Feroxian, and that's a Feroxi sword." The Khan laughed at the brutal design of the blade. "If you aren't using Hoissurā, might as well take this one then, eh?" He said whilst fishing through some armour. "It's no magic sword, but it'll get the job done all the same." Basilio then gave Erron a cloak. "This was his as well…knowing you; you won't want to 'interact' with many people, given Tenebris." Unlike his own cloak, which Virion had got him, this one wasn't a hooded mass of fabric that formed a cape, this cloak was more like an overcoat; which sealed up at the front with buckles, splitting outwards just below the waist, to allow leg movement, the coattails reaching Erron's ankles. As it was a coat, it had sleeves of its own, which hung over his wrists, concealing his hands. (Dad was really tall it seems…) The hood draped over his brow, but it did not have a cowl, meaning he would have to acquire a face guard or something along those lines.

"Until…" Erron said as he raised the cloak's hood. "I find a…way out of this…I am no longer Erron Wolfe…" No doubt he would come across his old Shepherd comrades at some point, he couldn't let them know that he was…changed… _corrupted_ …by Tenebris.

"Theeeen who are you?" Basilio said, whilst scratching his head; he often got irritated by the swordsman's nihilistic nature and philosophical tendencies. Erron thought for a moment, if he were to be this… _husk_ of what he was, then he needed to cut off his life as 'Erron'. Then it came to him.

"…Susano'o…" He said, falling into a Chon'sin dialect.

"That's a Chon'sin word, right?" Basilio remarked. Erron knew that Chon'sinese wasn't a language spoken that much outside of the country itself; his mother had taught it to him as a second language, but he never perfected it until he studied it further as he traveled across Valm; a good way to keep his identity hidden. "The name of an ancient warrior, right?" Basilio said hoping he didn't butcher his history.

"Correct." The nomad responded.

"Are you fluent?" The Khan asked as Erron nodded silently. "…You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Basilio asked, his face falling. "You won't be able to hide your face forever."

"I know but…the longer that I am away from them…" He said sorrowfully. "The easier their lives will be."

"Where will you go now?" The elder warrior asked, taking a swig of his drink.

"To find answers I suppose." The swordsman said, slinging a scabbard over his shoulder and sheathing Reaver within it. "I shan't stray too far from Ferox."

"…You're so much like him…" Basilio said, his eyes locked at the floor. "When he left for Chon'sin…he believed that keeping away would solve his problems." His eyes softened towards Erron. "Just…don't shut everything out…okay?" The Khan's sudden melancholic tone surprised Erron.

"I-" Erron began to speak but was wrapped in the Khan's log like arms. His phobia did not kick in, he was just speechless.

"Please kid, don't die out there…" He said sincerely. Erron gently pat the Khan on the back, he was glad his hood was hiding his face, so Basilio couldn't see his sadness. Basilio let go of the nomad and stood rigidly. "Farah was a brother to me, when you came to Ferox, I promised myself I wouldn't lead you down his path…I failed then, but…I won't fail now." Erron heard him choke the last words out…to see him, the closest thing he had to a father, as much as he didn't want to admit it, that was what he was…like this, it hurt deep within Erron.

"Thank you, Basilio." Were his only words before leaving, vanishing as quickly as he arrived.

 _ **Impending…**_  
Erron wandered; that was the only way to describe what he did for the next year of his life. He kept away from any interaction with anyone, the last thing he did in a town was purchase a porcelain white mask; it held no features, just blanched white, it's express purpose to keep attention away from him. He wandered the outskirts of Regna Ferox, never straying too far; the cold climate suited him more, and it gave him perfect opportunities to practice Cataegis, his skill with the technique becoming almost masterful…though he never dared to willingly utilise Tenebris' power, its darkness was all encompassing, he wanted no part of it.

"I see you are well, sire." A woman's voice called to him. Erron did not respond, he continued walking, ignoring the time traveller; Marth. "Sire?"

"Leave me." He spoke harshly, but did not stop walking.

"I come with another warning." She followed him as she spoke. "The Valmese Empire are readying an invasion fleet." Erron halted.

"Empire? Valm is fractioned; Valm, Chon'sin and Rosanne. Valm itself is puny." His voice finally showed interest.

"A Valmese man named Walhart, The Conqueror has taken control of the entirety of Rosanne and most of Chon'sin." Erron turned, under his mask his eyes widened.

"How!?" He spat angrily, his mind racing towards one thing. (Cherche!)

"He is unparalleled as a fighter, greater than even Basilio." Marth's words genuinely infuriated Erron, a man stronger than Basilio? Impossible. "The Shepherds will rise to fight, but they will fail without you beside them." A dreaded silence fell before she got a response.

"I no longer fight beside the-"

"Basilio _dies_ at Walhart's hand." Marth spoke defiantly, silencing Erron.

"…Impossible, Basilio is stronger than anyone I've ever known." He said, indifference coating his words.

"You do not know Walhart." She looked down as she spoke. "I will not push you, but without you, those you love will die." She kept her eyes down when she finished and turned away, disappearing into the snowy wastes.

"…They are already dead, little girl." He muttered before walking towards to The Longfort, he would fight, not for them, but himself.

 _ **Reunion…**_  
A week had passed since Erron spoke with Marth, currently he was stood beside Basilio, his façade still over him, his mask still present.

"The Valmese want war?" Basilio spoke to himself. "Boy, you're going to fight, right?" He addressed the nomad beside him. Erron simply nodded, not giving anything away.

"Khan Flavia! Khan Basilio! Exalt Chrom and the Shepherds have arrived!" The Feroxi lieutenant Raimi announced.

"This is where the fun begins." Basilio smirked. Erron watched on as the Ylissean party entered the Longfort, blissfully unaware to his identity. Flavia and Chrom were speaking before she brought out a periwinkle haired buffoon.

"Ah! My friends! You know me as Virion, the Archest of Archers! But it was all a masterful ruse! For I am Lo-" Virion's grandiloquence was halted by Chrom.

"We all know who you are Virion. Why are you here?" The new Exalt asked.

"I believe I can help with that, milord." Erron's eyes wandered toward the new voice, one so familiar. It came from a woman, striding forward with rider's armour and a head of dark rose-pink hair. (Cherche! She's…okay…) Relief washed over him like a wave as he saw the wyvern rider. "My name is Cherche; Lord Virion and I are from the country of Rosanne. The Conqueror, Walhart, invaded our fiefdom almost two years ago." Her pleasant accent soothed Erron's ears, had he missed her this much? "My liege had escaped, yet I remained, to fight as long as I could…yet now I join him, seeking asylum from Walhart's wrath." A displeased look stained her face, as Erron began to boil, rage encompassing him. (Virion fled!? He left Cherche to _DIE?!_ ) His fists began to visibly tremble with fury. Basilio noticed and whispered to him.

"Calm yourself boy, you'll blow your own cover." He was right, Erron suppressed his anger silently, glad that the white mask on his face hid his hateful expression. As Chrom was still discussing details with Cherche and Flavia, a snow haired tactician and a crimson headed knight approached Basilio.

"Basilio, it's good to see you." Robin smiled and waved as he and Cordelia walked closer. Cordelia simply smiling and waving, as Erron silently dreaded his identity being revealed, to his relief they didn't seem to at all.

"Likewise, you crazy sonofabitch, how are you?" Basilio grappled the tactician into a headlock and laughed loudly.

"Uh, Khan Basilio." Cordelia spoke up, she was holding something, wrapped in a cloth.

"Yes? You are the Pegasus rider, right? Cordelia?" Basilio let go of Robin as Cordelia nodded.

"Yes…you are close with Erron aren't you?" Under his mask, Erron tensed, yet Basilio remained stone faced.

"Sure, I treat the kid like my own." The Khan spoke calmly.

"He l-left us about a year ago…" She spoke quietly, sadly even. "This," Cordelia unwrapped the cloth to reveal Hoissurā, still sheathed and kept the same as Erron had left it. "This is his sword, he never went anywhere without it…I'm worried about him, I know this blade belongs in Ferox, so can you keep it for him?" She held the blade out but Basilio pushed it back to her.

"I haven't seen him lass, but knowing that kid; he'll find you rather than the sword." Cordelia blushed slightly at the Khan's implication. She turned away and her eyes met Basilio's companion; a tall man dressed in all black, hooded, with a white mask on his face, the shadow cast by the brim of the hood shielded his eyes from sight.

"Who is this, Basilio?" Robin asked, rubbing his now sore neck.

"This is Susano'o, one of my strongest warriors." He waved a hand to Erron as the hooded man nodded.

"Oh! Greetings, Susano'o!" Robin waved with a smile, in return he got a grunt. "Uh…"

"He's from Chon'sin; he doesn't speak Ylissean." Basilio covered smoothly. "He'll be assisting you against Valm, under my employ; you won't be able to command a guy who doesn't even understand you."

"Oh, well that makes sense I suppose." The tactician scratched his head.

"He's a beast on the field, he could even be my successor!" Basilio's low key remark towards Erron made him curse internally. "Now," He turned to the masked warrior. "make for Port Ferox, it'll be the Valmese's landing point." Erron nodded and walked away silently. Something was on his mind, something that caught his eye, it had made his heart wrench painfully.

Upon her finger.

He saw gold.

 _Cordelia had found love…_

 **But it was not him.**

 _ **Closing comments…**_  
Valm war! BEGIN! First things first, I want to apologise for this being so late; college gave us a big ol' project that was pretty intense, so that was what I was devoted to primarily: so in the future if I'm not updating anything, either college is taking over, or I'm just a bit burned out. So if I'm not a lazy bastard, maybe I can get chapters done! Also look out for other projects on the way, things are in the works…BUT AS ALWAYS! I hope you've enjoyed reading! Criticise and review! And I hope you have a lovely day! -Muffin

 _ **Extras**_  
Reasoning for the name Susano'o; in Japanese mythology, he's a badass warrior god dude. So I thought it fitting.


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